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CHILD  TRAINING 


CHILD     TRAINING 


BY 


ANGELO  PATRI 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  :  :  LONDON  :  :  MCMXXII 


COPYEIGHT,   1922,   BT 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


PRINTED  IN   THE   UHITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 
THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME 

PAGB 

The  Wondering  Childken 3 

Training  Your  Child 5 

Baby  Carriages 8 

Tickling 9 

Nurse  Maids 11 

Helping  Mother 13 

Feeding  Himself 15 

Bedtime 17 

Fear 19 

Bears 21 

Sympathy 23 

Her  Bedroom 25 

Waking  Up 27 

Dressing  Himself 29 

Ready  for  Dinner 31 

One  at  a  Time 33 

"Stop  Him" 35 

Something  to  Do 37 

Get  Your  Breath 39 

Grandfather  Knows 41 

Nonsense 43 

Pet 45 

Bessie  Won't  Eat 47 

The  Baby 50 

V 


2073010 


vi  CONTENTS 


PAGB 


Maistneks 52 

Gum  Chewiitg 56 

Man-nerisms 58 

**GiMME  aPefny" 60 

Entertaining  Mary 62 

Entertaining  the  Children 64 

The  Cheerful  Word 66 

Tad's  Headache 68 

The  Crow  Age 70 

Self-Confidence 72 

Why  the  Rush? 74 

Break,  Break,  Break 76 

Handkerchiefs       78 

Thou  Shalt  Laugh 80 

Her  Imagination 82 

Who  Is  Lazy 84 

Hands  Off 86 

Leave  Them  Alone     ........  88 

His  Hour 90 

As  NoRAH  Saw  It 92 

Thumpers  and  Bumpers 94 

Looking  Away 96 

Better  Be  Still 98 

Nervous  Children 100 

Bobby's  Right — It  Isn't  Fair 102 

Saturday 104 

Toys 106 

The  Everyday  Doll 108 

His  Dog 110 

The  Animals 112 

Respect  Them 114 

Her  Music  Lessons 116 


CONTENTS  vii 


PAOB 


A  Fine  Scout   :.,    ,.     .     . 118 

FiFTY-FlFTY  ..     .     ...........  120 

The  House  of  Fun .  122 

Valentine's  Day .  124 

Hallowe'en 126 

Forget  It  Often 128 

The  Marching  Song 130 

PAET  II 
SCHOOL:    CHILD,  TEACHER,  PARENT 

Getting  Ready  fob  School 135 

Getting  Them  Off  to  School 137 

The  First  Day  in  School 139 

Your  Child  and  Your  Dreams 141 

The  School's  Job  . 143 

Is  It  a  Good  School!    .    = 145 

The  Playground    .     .     , 147 

The  Unworthy  School 149 

School  Standards 151 

Your  Neighbor's  Child 153 

*' These  Children"    ,.,    . 155 

The  L  Q.      .     .     -. 157 

Ahead  of  His  Class 159 

Lessons ,161 

Hands 163 

Why  Skip  Him? 165 

Homework 167 

The  Teacher  Knows 169 

The  Gifted  Child 171 

The  Poor  Student 173 

The  Story  Teller 175 

Astonishing 177 


viii  CONTENTS 


PAGE 


Prizes 179 

A  Misunderstanding 181 

Silence 183 

Skimping  the  School 185 

The  Teacher  He  Liked 187 

Pay  the  Teacher 189 

Old  Style  and  New 191 

Graduation  Day 193 

PART  III 

BUILDING  THE  CHILD'S  CHARACTER 

Three  Wishes 197 

A  Good  Child? 199 

The  Hard  Eoad 201 

Leadership 203 

Follow  the  Leader 205 

Imagination 207 

Duty  .     ,., 209 

The  Lib 211 

The  Covetous  Child 213 

"The  Boy  Behind  Me" 215 

Hold  On 217 

Spending  Money 219 

Homework 221 

The  Good  Sport 223 

The  Bad  Loser 225 

A  Mere  Trifle 227 

"I  Forgot'' 229 

The  Shy  Child 232 

Stubbornness .  235 

Cruelty  in  Children 237 

Unselfishness 239 


CONTENTS  ix 


PAGE 


The  Fat  and  the  Lean 241 

Tell  Tale 243 

Peesistence 245 

''I  Can't  Find  It" 247 

Real  Discipline 250 

Eespect  foe  Elders 252 

**HoLD  Your  Head  Up" 254 

The  Hole  in  the  Hedge    .......  256 

PART  IV 

MORAL  TRAINING 

Book  Morality 261 

The  Bible 263 

Honor  Thy  Father 265 

God's  Name 267 

Bad  Language 269 

The  All-Seeing  Eye 271 

Sunday  School 273 

Your  Child's  Sunday  School 275 

Creeds     , 277 

Christmas .  279 

PART  y 

BOYS 

Outdoors  for  the  Boys    .......  283 

Keeping  the  Boy  at  Home ,.,  285 

Boys' Clubs 287 

A  Boy  AND  A  Dog 289 

Your  Boy's  Best  Companions 291 

The  Informer 293 

Fashion  for  Boys 295 

Chumming  It  with  Son 297 


X  CONTENTS 


PAOB 


In  Embryo 299 

Whose  Kite? 301 

False  Education 303 

Boys  and  Study 305 

The  Hero 307 

Hare  and  Tortoise 309 

Two  Brothers 311 

Paying  His  Share 313 

The  Trouble  Maker 315 

The  Caddie 317 

Mine  Own    .     .     , 319 

Owning  Him 321 

To  Each  His  Gift 323 

Which!  ...    ,.,     .,     ....     .     ..    ..     .     .  325 

PART  VI 
ADOLESCENCE 

The  Adolescent  Boy 329 

The  Boy  and  the  Girl 331 

Loafing 331 

Work 335 

Sharing  the  Load 337 

Growing  Pains 339 

PART  VII 

VACATION  TIME 

Vacation  Ahead 343 

Summer  Camp 345 

Picking  Out  the  Camp 347 

Girls  to  Camp 349 

First  Night  at  Camp 351 

Camping  Out 353 


CONTENTS  xi 


PAOB 


Excursions  . 355 

Summer  Dangers .,...,  357 

The  Play ,359 

The  Stray  Circus ,.     ,     .,  361 

The  Organ  Man .  363 

Midsummer  . 365 

PAET  VIII 

PARENTS 

The  Boys      .     .     .    , 369 

Are  They  Sure  OP  You? ,  371 

Divided  Allegiance 373 

Lazy  Parents 375 

Are  You  Really  Making  a  Home  for  Them  ?    .  377 

Say  *' Yes"  AS  Often  AS  Possible      ....  379 

How  Do  You  Talk  to  Your  Children  1      .     .  381 

*'My  Mother  Can" 383 

My  Father 385 

Hostages 387 

To  THE  Fathers 389 

The  Independent  Family 391 

Children's  Respect 393 

Let  'Em  Alone  .     „ 395 

*'Coz" 397 

The  Head  op  the  House 399 

Discoveries 401 

Grandma's -» 403 

Training  and  Loving 405 

PART  IX 

THE  CHILD  AND  HIS  COUNTRY 

Columbus 409 

Thanksgiving  Prayer 411 


xii  CONTENTS 


PAOB 


The  Foueth  of  July 413 

George  Washington 415 

Benjamin  Franklin 417 

Lincoln 419 

Memorial  Day 421 

Flag  Day 423 

Theodore  Eoosevelt 425 

The  Unknown  Soldier 427 

Epilogue 431 


PART  I 
THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME 


THE  WONDERING  CHILDREN 

To  the  child  the  world  is  a  place  of  wonder.  The 
sky  arching  overhead,  the  stars  that  come  and  go, 
the  moon  that  follows  him  about. 

The  clouds  gathering  and  dissolving ;  now  lighting 
up  with  exquisite  color,  now  darkening  with  the 
frown  of  the  thunder,  fill  him  with  wondering  awe. 

The  fluffy,  wee  chick,  the  clumsy  puppy  tumbling 
about  at  his  feet,  the  funny  monkey  climbing  to  his 
master's  shoulder  or  squatting  on  the  top  of  the 
organ  make  him  laugh  aloud  in  wondering  delight. 

The  scarlet-coated  Santa  ringing  his  bell  and  in- 
viting the  children  to  keep  his  pot  a-boiling;  the 
Santa  that  lives  in  the  shop  and  holds  out  a  friendly 
hand  for  the  letter  that  begs  for  the  cherished  toy 
swell  his  soul  with  a  tremulous  joyous  wonder. 
He  is  a  questioning,  wondering,  happy  child.  Ah, 
the  world  is  a  glorious  place  I 

The  mountainous  elephant  swaying  from  side  to 
side  and  gracefully  curling  his  magic  trunk  to  take 
a  peanut  from  the  quivering  little  hand  is  too,  too 
wonderful  for  speech.    No  words  can  do  him  justice. 

The  child  stands  before  the  solemn  camel  and 
contemplates  him  with  round  eyes  and  mouth.  He 
vaguely  wonders  how  so  much  sorrow  ever  settled 
on  one  lone  face.  He  is  fascinated  by  the  mystery 
of  him,  this  sad  son  of  the  desert. 

And  the  circus.  My,  the  circus  I  The  most  won- 
derful of  wondering  places.    The  place  where  the 

3 


4  CHILD  TRAINING 

child  fairly  bathes  himself  in  beatific  wonder.  He 
screams  hilariously  at  the  clowns.  He  rocks  with 
laughter  at  the  goose  that  runs  after  the  pig,  that 
runs  after  the  dog,  that  runs  after  the  man,  who 
runs  after  his  own  legs.  Wonderful,  all  wonderful 
to  the  happy  child. 

One  grows  old  only  when  he  loses  all  this;  when 
he  ceases  to  go  to  the  wondering  place.  Then  it  is 
he  feels  his  years  heavy  upon  him.  He  sits  within 
the  gray  shadow  of  obhvion. 

But  the  children  will  not  have  it  so.  They  draw 
one  back. 

It  was  for  this  children  were  sent  into  the  world. 
They  renew  our  waning  courage  in  the  warmth 
of  their  glowing  souls.  Our  faith  is  renewed  by 
their  faith  in  the  joy  and  beauty  and  mystery  of  life. 
They  warm  our  chill  hearts  and  help  us  on. 

Are  you  tired,  father?  Take  the  children  to  the 
wondering  place !  The  outdoors,  the  zoo,  the  river- 
side. 

Cross,  uncle?  Take  little  Billie  to  the  circus. 
His  laughter  will  restore  the  glow  to  your  tired  0I4 
heart. 

Are  you  childless  and  lonely,  friend?  Borrow  a 
child  and  let  him  lead  you  to  the  wondering  place. 

That  is  why  I  am  a  teacher.  Daily  I  renew  my 
soul  in  the  glow  of  childhood's  reverent,  joyous 
wonder. 


TRAINING  YOUR  CHILD 

Training  children  is  a  difficult,  nerve-racking  job. 
When  they  are  little  and  stay  close  to  their  mother 
it  is  bad  enough.  When  they  begin  to  take  their 
first  independent  steps  in  the  world,  go  to  school 
and  play  with  the  other  children  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, the  mother's  anxieties  are  sharpened  and 
multiplied. 

Some  of  these  fears  are  needless.  Some  of  them 
are  justified.  If  we  could  separate  the  needless 
from  the  others  it  would  lighten  the  load. 

He  is  dirty?  Never  mind  that.  One  day's  dirt 
will  not  hurt  a  child.  Keep  on  teaching  him  to 
wash  himself,  and  when  he  gets  to  the  right  stage 
for  it  he  will  be  so  clean  that  he  will  exasperate  youj 

He  has  bad  manners?  That  is  normal.  We  all 
have  had  bad  manners.  Even  you  used  to  lick  your 
fingers  at  table.  You  outgrew  that.  So  will  he. 
Train  him. 

He  makes  a  horrible  din?  He  rushes  headlong? 
He  is  loud  and  he  argues  his  point  past  all  patience  ? 
All  healthy  boys  do  that.  If  he  did  not  rush  like  a 
whirlwind  and  bang  and  crash  his  way  through  the 
house  you  would  soon  be  sending  for  the  doctor. 
His  arguing  the  point  is  not  so  bad.  It  shows  that 
he  has  a  sense  of  what  is  due  him.  He  needs  that. 
You  have  it  yourself. 

He  doesn't  always  tell  the  truth?  That  is  too 
bad.    Did  you?    You  need  not  answer  that.    Your 

5 


6  CHILD  TEAINING 

anxiety  is  real,  and  it  may  be  justified.  I  scarcely 
share  it,  however.  Check  up  his  stories  and  set  him 
right  until  seventy  times  seven.  He  will  grow  to  the 
standard  of  truth  you  set.    Never  fear. 

Once  he  took  what  did  not  belong  to  himf  I  am 
still  unmoved.  Teach  him  he  must  not  do  so — that 
the  time  for  that  in  the  world  has  long  gone  by.  It  is 
his  cave  man  ancestry  that  moves  restlessly  now 
and  again.  It  will  die  soon.  Your  child's  growth 
lies  beyond  that.    Have  faith  in  him.    Train  him. 

You  need  not  worry  so.  Whenever  your  child 
seems  to  be  going  wrong  don't  call  up  the  old 
skeleton  that  rattles  its  bones  in  the  family  closet. 

Cheer  up.  The  normal,  healthy  child  tends  to 
rightness.  The  family  tradition,  and  the  family 
teaching,  and  the  lessons  of  the  school,  all  tend  to 
rightness.  Keep  on  teaching.  The  child  will  some 
day  rise  to  call  you  blessed,  and  you  will  wonder 
what  made  you  think  anything  wrong  could  come  to 
him. 


BABY  CARRIAGES 

There  is  a  pretty  little  park  close  to  my  window. 
It  is  full  of  sunshine  and  sparrows  and  squirrels 
and  wee  babies  in  their  carriages.  The  sparrows 
and  squirrels  are  having  lots  of  fun.  But  the 
babies?    No,  I  think  not. 

They  are  covered  up  snugly  to  keep  them  from 
the  cold.  Behind  every  carriage  stands  a  woman 
with  the  air  of  one  on  guard.  When  the  baby 
grows  restless  and  wants  to  wiggle  his  arms  and 
legs  and  finds  that  he  cannot  because  he  is  too 
snugly  wrapped  up,  he  begins  to  cry. 

Immediately  his  guardian  begins  jiggling  the  car- 
riage. She  bounces  it  up  and  down,  she  gives  it  a 
sidewise  shake,  the  carriage  sways  and  staggers 
dizzily  upon  its  springs.  The  baby  cries  louder. 
The  woman  shakes  and  bounces  and  wheels  harder. 
It  becomes  a  race  between  them,  with  no  chance  in 
favor  of  the  baby. 

He  was  fed  just  before  he  was  wheeled  into  the 
park.  His  milk  has  not  proceeded  far  enough  on  its 
way  to  be  sure  of  its  route.  The  rough  passage 
brings  it  back  again. 

**Dear,  dear,"  moans  the  perturbed  guardian, 
**his  stomach  is  upset  again.  I'll  have  to  call  the 
doctor  and  have  a  new  formula  made  for  him.  I 
hope  he  isn't  going  to  have  a  poor  stomach  like  his 
father." 

He  isn't.    He's  not  a  bom  sailor,  that's  aU.    He 

7 


8  CHILD  TRAINING 

cannot  stand  all  that  bouncing  and  swaying  and  dip- 
ping and  rising.  He's  plain  seasick,  and  I  don't 
blame  him.  I'm  seasick  watching  his  craft  battered 
about  by  the  eccentric  conduct  of  the  woman  in 
command. 

The  baby  doesn't  need  rocking.  When  he  is  on 
his  way  to  the  park  for  his  airing,  wheel  him 
straight  ahead,  please.  Give  him  a  smooth  trip  if 
you  can.  When  his  eyes  begin  to  close,  slow  down 
and  gently  ease  the  carriage  into  the  sheltered 
sunny  comer  and  let  him  sleep  in  peace. 

And  won't  you  please  try  not  to  wheel  him  back- 
ward ?  Remember  how  you  hate  to  travel  with  your 
back  to  the  engine?  Maybe  he  doesn't  like  it  any 
better  than  you  do. 

There  were  .twins  in  our  neighborhood.  The  car- 
riage was  built  for  one.  The  two  babies  were  placed 
in  the  carriage,  the  one  riding  forward,  the  other 
riding  backward.  They  always  had  the  same  places 
in  the  carriage  and  the  one  who  always  rode  back- 
ward lost  his  breakfast  regularly.  The  doctor 
changed  the  formula,  but  the  baby  didn't  change  his 
opinion  of  the  situation  and  continued  to  lose  his 
breakfast  and  his  weight. 

Then  his  grandmother  said,  *  *  Try  him  riding  for- 
ward and  see  what  happens. ' '  The  sick  one  became 
the  well  one  and  the  well  one  took  his  place.  The 
family  bought  a  new  carriage  and  the  twins  ride 
side  by  side.    Both  of  them  are  thriving. 

Don't  rock  the  baby  carriage.  Wheel  it  straight 
ahead  when  it  is  time  to  wheel  it  and  let  it  stand 
still  at  the  end  of  its  journey.  Babies  do  not  need  to 
be  rocked. 


TICKLING 

Chubby  babies  are  a  great  temptation.  Every- 
body loves  to  chuck  them  under  the  chin  and  tickle 
them.  But  everybody  mustn't.  Tickling  is  bad  for 
children.  Sometimes  it  does  serious  harm,  and  it 
never  does  any  good. 

When  a  child  is  tickled  his  sympathetic  nervous 
system  is  stimulated  and  he  laughs.  The  first 
chuckle  may  be  one  of  pleasure,  but  the  succeeding 
laughter  is  not.  It  is  a  reflex,  and  has  nothing  to  do 
with  joy.  Often  it  causes  positive  pain  and  the  baby 
cries.  Continued  nervous  excitement  of  this  sort 
ends  in  hysteria,  with  all  its  attendant  evils.  No- 
body would  knowingly  bring  such  discomfort  to  a 
child. 

A  two-year  old  boy  was  growing  along  happily, 
learning  to  walk  and  talk  his  way  through  the  world. 
He  was  one  of  those  laughing  cherubs  that  tempt 
people  to  cuddle  and  tickle  them.  He  liked  to  be 
tickled,  asked  for  it,  so  tickled  he  was. 

One  day  some  one  noticed  that  the  child  was 
stuttering.  He  had  always  talked  clearly.  Per- 
haps it  was  just  an  accident?  But  he  continued  to 
stutter,  and  it  soon  became  clear  that  he  could  not 
speak  clearly  and  smoothly.  He  cried  easily  and 
tossed  in  his  sleep.  He  was  not  happy  and  he 
laughed  no  more.  He  was  an  irritable,  sick  young- 
ster. 

He  had  been  played  with  and  fussed  over  until  his 

9 


10  CHILD  TRAINING 

nerves  rebelled.  There  was  nothing  to  do  now  but 
work  patiently  to  restore  their  balance.  He  must 
not  see  visitors.  There  must  be  no  more  cuddling 
and  tickling.  He  must  not  be  tossed  up  to  the  ceil- 
ing and  caught  again  with  shouts  of  glee.  He  was 
sick  and  suffering. 

Now  every  one  must  speak  softly  to  him,  softly 
and  slowly  and  evenly.  He  must  forego  simple  little 
pleasures  that  children  enjoy  so  much.  His  every 
movement  is  watched  with  anxiety,  and  every  desire 
scanned  with  a  watchful  eye.  He  must  give  careful 
heed  to  the  body  that  was  once  so  unconscious  of  him 
and  of  which  he  was  so  gayly  unconscious. 

Winking  and  breathing  and  laughing  are  actions 
that  children  need  think  nothing  about.  They  have 
been  taken  from  their  care  and  placed  in  the  realm  of 
the  unconscious.  When  they  are  rudely  seized  upon 
and  dragged  out  to  make  a  holiday  for  grown  folk 
who  ought  to  know  better  they  exact  severe  punish- 
ment. 

The  very  best  thing  to  do  for  little  children  is  to 
let  them  alone — largely.  Watch  them  and  try  to 
follow  their  needs  intelligently.  Give  them  a  chance 
to  play — ^play  is  their  life  growth.  But  if  you  value 
their  peace  of  mind  and  your  own,  don't  make  toys 
of  them. 


NURSE  MAIDS 

Did  you  ever  stop  and  watch  the  people  who  are 
in  charge  of  the  children  whose  mothers  have  sent 
them  out  to  play  or  for  an  airing  in  their  ''prams"? 

I  have.  And  I  have  wondered.  Wondered  what 
the  mother  of  a  dainty  miss  of  three  would  have 
said  could  she  have  seen  the  group  gathered  about 
the  park  bench  talking  in  hushed  excitement  about 
the  goings  on  in  the  respective  families  they  repre- 
sented, while  the  little  morsel  of  humanity  drank 
it  all  in. 

''Oh,  she  can't  understand  a  word  of  what  we're 
saying,"  said  the  maid  when  one  of  her  friends 
pointed  out  that  the  "little  miss"  was  listening. 
"Play  with  your  things,  darlin',"  said  she,  and  re- 
turned to  her  story. 

"Darlin'  "  didn't  understand  in  the  terms  the 
gossiping  maid  understood,  but  the  whisperings  and 
the  veiled  references  to  her  family  sank  into  her 
mind  and  they  would  lie  there  to  be  recalled  at  most 
unfortunate  times  and  places. 

"Sit  there  until  I  come  back  for  you,  and  mind 
you  don't  stir  or  speak  to  a  living  soul  until  I  come 
and  fetch  you,"  said  one  caretaker,  lifting  a  small 
boy  and  plumping  him  into  a  corner  of  the  bench. 

"If  you  move  off  that  spot  or  speak  to  anybody 
that  big  brown  bear  that  you  saw  a  minute  ago  will 
come  back  here  and  not  leave  a  pick  of  you. ' ' 

She  moved  off  a  few  feet  to  the  turn  of  the  road 

11 


12  CHILD  TRAINING 

and  gave  her  undivided  attention  to  her  * 'friend". 
The  little  boy  on  the  bench  did  not  move  or  speak 
until  she  came  to  ''fetch"  him.  He  sat  huddled  to- 
gether, too  frightened  to  move  had  he  wanted  to. 

"That's  a  good  boy,"  she  said  as  she  lifted  him 
down.    "I'll  tell  the  bear  not  to  bite  you  this  time." 

Another  one  sits  and  crochets  steadily,  lost  to  her 
surroundings.  The  sun  shines  down  in  the  face  of 
her  sleeping  charge,  but  she  does  not  know  it.  A  fly 
walks  over  the  unprotected  face  of  the  baby.  He 
turns  fretfully  and  she  puts  her  foot  on  the  springs 
of  the  carriage  and  joggles  it  until  it  rocks  like  a 
cockle  shell  in  a  gale.    Poor  baby ! 

Some  of  them  carry  pacifiers  in  their  hand  bags. 
When  the  child  frets  they  stick  one  into  his  mouth. 
Anything  to  quiet  him.  The  mothers  won't  know 
and  the  children  cannot  tell. 

Good  caretakers  are  expensive,  but  not  nearly  as 
much  so  as  poor  ones.  If  you  cannot  have  a  good 
one,  why  not  join  with  some  other  mother  and  get 
a  good  one  for  both?  Only  a  trained  and  trusty 
caretaker  should  be  given  the  care  of  little  helpless 
children. 


HELPING  MOTHER 

When  the  new  baby  arrives  he  receives  the  great- 
est care.  He  gets  his  bath  regularly  and  exactly. 
You  are  careful  of  his  eyes,  his  nose,  his  mouth. 
You  guard  his  food.  He  gets  nothing  that  would 
hurt  his  digestion.  He  grows  happily,  sturdily, 
until  he  is  two  years  old. 

The  next  baby  comes  along  then  and  he  is  put 
aside.  He  does  not  get  the  same  attention  either  as 
to  quantity  or  quality.  His  bath  is  hurried.  You 
do  not  notice  that  his  skin  is  not  as  active  as  it 
ought  to  be.  You  do  not  wash  his  mouth  with  the 
same  punctilious  care.  A  cavity  appears  in  one  of 
his  teeth  and  you  overlook  it. 

Some  day  you  discover  that  he  breathes  with  his 
mouth  open  and  that  he  is  catching  cold  easily  and 
often.  He  has  adenoids  and  his  tonsils  are  enlarged. 
You  say,  '* Isn't  it  dreadful?"  and  hurry  along  to 
the  baby. 

Somebody  gives  the  three-year-old  a  slice  of  beef 
or  a  bit  of  cheese  at  the  wrong  time  and  he  is  ill. 
You  say,  **That  child  is  not  as  healthy  as  I  thought 
he  was  going  to  be." 

The  only  way  for  a  mother  to  keep  up  with  a 
growing  family  is  to  train  each  of  them  to  help. 
The  mother  is  generally  impatient  about  waiting  for 
a  child  to  learn  to  help  himself.  She  says  that  she 
hasn't  the  time  to  wait. 

Begin  with  the  first  one.    As  soon  as  he  can  hold 

13 


14  CHILD  TRAINING 

the  wash  rag  in  his  hand,  let  him  do  so.  He  will 
splash  about  a  bit.  Soon  he  wiU  try  to  wipe  it  across 
his  face  and  make  queer  flaps  with  it.  Let  him  prac- 
tice washing  himself  a  minute  at  a  time  day  by  day. 
Before  you  know  it  he  will  be  quite  deft. 

As  soon  as  he  can  handle  a  little  brush,  teach  him 
to  wash  his  mouth  and  brush  his  teeth.  His  efforts 
are  wide  of  the  mark.  Give  him  a  chance.  He  is 
not  wasting  time.  He  is  learning  to  help  himself 
and  you. 

These  little  attempts  at  self-help  are  first-hand 
experiences.  They  are  the  most  valuable  kind  of 
training.  They  are  the  first  steps  in  industry.  All 
lessons  are  not  learned  from  books.  Everything 
you  do  or  say  before  a  little  child  is  a  lesson.  Every- 
thing you  let  him  do  or  say  is  another  and  more 
lasting  lesson. 

Give  the  little  child  a  small  papier  mdcKe  tub,  a 
cake  of  soap,  a  wash  rag ;  get  him  a  little  table  and 
a  chair  to  match.  Give  him  a  set  of  dolls  that  can 
be  made  to  do  things,  that  will  allow  themselves  to 
be  washed  and  otherwise  mistreated.  Teach  him  to 
play  with  them  and  then  let  him  alone. 

He  will  repeat  with  his  equipment  what  he  has 
seen  you  do  with  yours.  Guide  him  a  little  and  the 
first  thing  you  know  you  will  have  the  best  sort  of 
mother  *s  helper. 


FEEDING  HIMSELF 

Mother  carried  the  baby  to  his  high  chair  and 
strapped  him  in.  Then  she  placed  his  tray,  with  a 
bowl  of  cereal  on  it,  before  him.  ' '  Now,  young  man, 
let  me  see  you  eat  your  breakfast." 

The  baby  chuckled  gleefully  and  dug  his  spoon 
into  the  porridge.  He  tried  to  carry  it  to  his  mouth, 
but  his  hand  joggled  and  he  spilled  most  of  it  down 
his  freshly  laundered  front. 

"Dear  me,"  said  mother,  jumping  up  and  wiping 
him  vigorously.  "What  a  mussy  baby.  Now,  try 
again  and  don't  spill." 

The  baby  tried  again  and  pointed  the  spoon 
towards  his  ear.  It  didn't  land  exactly  anywhere, 
but  dribbled  the  porridge  along  his  face  until  some 
of  it  found  his  mouth. 

Mother  reached  for  the  spoon  and  said,  "Poor 
baby!  Here,  mother '11  feed  you.'* 

Baby  stiffened  out  and  kicked  hard  and  cried 
aloud  in  protest. 

"Well,  well,  never  mind.  Try  it  again."  And 
she  wiped  his  face  and  placed  his  bowl  nearer. 

Baby  cheered  up  and  tried  again.  This  time  he 
made  a  more  direct  attack  and  landed  most  of  the 
spoonful  in  his  mouth.  ' '  That 's  a  good  boy.  Now, 
try  another  one." 

But  this  one  went  wrong  right  from  the  start  and 
turned  over  into  his  lap.  He  went  after  it  with  his 
spoon  and  smeared  it  all  over  himself. 

16 


16  CHILD  TRAINING 

** There,  now.  That's  enough.  Mother '11  feed 
you.  See,  you're  spilling  your  breakfast  all  over 
yourself  and  you  won 't  get  any.  It  will  be  cold  and 
then  baby '11  be  sick.  Come,  now.  Eat  it  nicely  for 
mother. ' ' 

Protesting,  but  helpless,  the  baby  ate  his  break- 
fast as  his  mother  fed  him.  Trying  to  help  himself 
became  a  struggle  between  the  baby  and  his  mother. 
He  wanted  to  be  independent,  she  wanted  him  to  be 
so,  too,  but  she  went  the  wrong  way  about  it. 

Get  a  heavy  table  that  sits  low.  Match  it  with  a 
little  armchair.  Set  the  baby  at  this  table  with  his 
tray  and  his  spoon  and  his  bib.  Feed  him  the 
greater  part  of  his  breakfast.  Leave  just  a  little 
more  than  one  teaspoonful  in  the  bowl.  Let  him 
experiment  with  that. 

He  won't  lose  his  breakfast  and  he  will  learn  to 
make  the  movements  necessary  to  feed  himself.  His 
mother  can  go  ahead  with  her  other  duties  and  leave 
him  in  the  knowledge  that  he  cannot  fall  off  a  high 
chair.  High  chairs  ought  to  be  used  for  furnace 
food,  anyway. 

As  he  grows  in  power,  he  will  make  less  fuss 
about  feeding  himself  and  his  mother  gradually 
leaves  more  and  more  in  the  bowl  until  he  can  eat 
the  whole  bowlful  without  help.  The  steps  between 
lessons  must  be  very  short  for  little  children.  Take 
one  difficulty  at  a  time.  Eating  means  a  great  many 
adjustments  that  are  new  for  the  baby.    Go  slowly. 


BEDTIME 

Children  do  not  like  to  go  to  bed.  They  are 
always  sure  that  interesting  things  are  about  to 
happen  and  they  will  miss  something.  Going  to 
bed  is  always  an  interruption,  no  matter  what  the 
hour. 

Stevenson  puts  it  delightfully  in  his  "Bed  in 
Summer."    The  child  laments: 

''And  hear  the  grown-up  people's  feet, 
Still  going  past  me  on  the  street." 

If  only  the  grown-up  people  would  stop  the  inter- 
esting things  they  are  doing  and  go  to  bed,  too,  it 
would  not  be  so  bad. 

Besides  all  that,  there  is  a  certain  dread  of  the 
night.  Children  feel  safe  during  the  day.  Night 
brings  fears  all  its  own. 

What  can  one  do  to  make  going  to  bed  the  ''next 
thing,"  the  pleasant  thing,  it  ought  to  be? 

It  helps  some  if  the  child  knows  that  all  his  play- 
mates are  going  to  bed.  He  has  a  feeling  of  com- 
panionship if  he  knows  that  the  chickens  and  the 
kittens  and  the  flowers  are  going  to  sleep  at  the 
same  time  he  is.  This  is  the  reason  that  the  child 
likes  to  hear  "Bedtime  Stories." 

If  mother  can  put  him  to  bed  herself  it  helps  a 
whole  lot.  If  other  duties  interfere,  perhaps  she 
can  go  to  him  and  tuck  him  in  when  he  is  ready.    He 

17 


18  CHILD  TRAINING 

has  more  faith  in  her  than  in  any  one  else  in  the 
world.    She  can  reassure  him. 

She  can  tell  him  that  the  night  is  only  the  day 
with  the  light  turned  off.  It  is  the  time  for  aU  little 
wee  things  to  curl  up  in  their  nests  and  rest  for  the 
fun  that  is  waiting  for  to-morrow. 

When  the  darkness  falls  and  the  familiar  things 
fade  from  sight  the  children  are  likely  to  people  the 
dark  with  their  fancies.  The  night  is  filled  with 
fear  or  content. 

Tell  him  the  right  sort  of  story.  To  be  sure,  the 
little  boy  may  ask  for  the  tale  of  the  fiery  dragon 
which  ate  the  wicked  brothers,  but  mothers  know 
how  to  slip  Peter  Rabbit  into  his  place.  Bedtime  is 
quiet  time.  A  bunny  fits  in  better  than  the  roaring 
dragon. 

Then  cover  him  up  and  tuck  him  in  snugly,  open 
the  windows,  and  turn  out  the  light.  He  will  have 
a  sense  of  a  well-rounded  day.  He  will  feel  no  sense 
of  interruption.  His  mind  has  been  soothed  and 
directed  toward  ** pleasant  places"  and  he  will  rest 
content. 


FEAR 

Children  should  never  be  frightened.  Fear  is 
poison.  It  upsets  the  stomach.  The  food  cannot  be 
digested.  Sometimes  fear  brings  on  vomiting  and 
diarrhea.    No  child  can  grow  under  these  conditions. 

Children  are  secretive  about  their  fears.  They 
are  afraid  of  their  fear.  Often  they  are  frightened 
and  you  do  not  know  it.  Be  very  gentle  with  them 
and  try  to  get  them  to  tell  you  about  the  things  that 
frighten  them. 

Some  people  tell  their  children  that  the  Bogy  Man 
will  get  them.  That  the  Bag  Man  will  take  them. 
That  the  Devil  will  come  for  them.  Foolish  people 
tell  little  children  these  awful  lies  at  bedtime.  The 
children  go  to  bed  in  great  fear.  They  lie  in  bed 
shivering  in  the  darkness,  not  daring  to  pull  the 
covers  up,  afraid  to  turn  over  and  hide  their  faces 
in  the  comforting  pillow.  Sick  with  fear  they  fall 
asleep.  They  cannot  rest.  They  start  up,  call  out, 
and  sometimes  walk  in  their  sleep  and  are 
hurt. 

Fear  like  this  often  becomes  fixed  in  the  minds  of 
the  little  ones.  It  unfits  them  for  work  or  play. 
Insanity  has  been  traced  to  such  fears. 

Never  frighten  your  children.  It  is  not  only  silly 
but  dangerous.  Some  parents  tell  the  children  that 
the  policeman  will  take  them  away.  One  child  so 
trained  lost  his  mother  in  the  crowded  street.  The 
ofl&cer  saw  that  he  was  lost  and  spoke  to  him.    The 

19 


20  CHILD  TRAINING 

child  went  into  convulsions  of  fear.  Wliy  not  tell 
the  child  that  the  policeman  is  his  friend! 

About  the  same  thing  happens  to  the  doctor.  **If 
you  don 't  behave  and  stop  crying  I  '11  call  the  docton 
and  he'll  fix  you."  Some  day  that  child  will  need 
all  the  help  the  doctor  can  give,  but  he  will  not  re- 
ceive it.  The  doctor  can  do  little  for  the  child  who 
has  been  taught  to  fear  him. 

In  one  of  the  schools  of  a  big  city  a  bright-looking 
little  lad  sat  in  the  baby  class.  Day  after  day  he 
sat,  growing  paler  and  sadder,  but  not  a  word  would 
he  say. 

**Did  you  ever  hear  Eddie  talk,  children?"  asked 
the  teacher  finally. 

*'Yes,  he  talks.  Only  in  the  room  he  doesn't 
talk." 

When  the  mother  came  to  school  she  said,  "Why, 
of  course  he  talks." 

Eddie  burst  into  tears  and  clrng  to  his  mother. 
She  took  him  home.  When  she  brought  him  back 
the  next  day  she  said  to  the  teacher,  ''It's  all  right 
now.  Before  I  brought  him  to  school  I  told  him  that 
if  he  talked  in  school  you  would  cut  his  tongue  out 
and  the  little  silly  believed  me." 

Fear  is  poison.  To  wittingly  implant  fear  in  the 
mind  of  a  child  is  cruelty.    Never  frighten  a  child. 


BEARS 

Mother  had  bathed  Eobin  and  got  him  ready  for 
bed. 

*'Now  go  down  the  hall  to  bed,  like  a  little  man." 

*'No,  no,"  begged  the  mite.  ''Come  with  me." 

''When  you  get  into  your  crib  I'll  come  right  in 
and  tuck  you  up.  I  want  to  see  you  go  down  the 
hall  all  by  yourself  and  go  to  bed.  Try  like  a  brave 
boy." 

"I  can't.    I'm  afraid  of  the  bear." 

"But,  Robin,  I  tell  you  there  isn't  any  bear* 
Can't  you  see  right  down  the  hall?  You  don't  see 
any  bear." 

"No,  but  he'll  come  in  back  of  me." 

"He  won't.  He  can't.  Don't  you  see  I  am  going 
to  stay  here  and  watch  until  you  get  to  the  bedroom 
and  then  I'll  come  right  in  and  tell  you  the  loveliest 
story. ' ' 

"You  come  with  me." 

"Take  one  step,  Robin,  just  to  see." 

Robin  took  a  tiny  step  ahead  and  promptly 
stepped  back  again. 

Daddy  came  up.  "What's  the  matter,  Robin? 
Not  going  to  bed  like  a  regular  fellow?" 

Robin  clung  to  him  like  a  drowning  kitten  on  a 
friendly  branch. 

"See,  I'll  stand  here,  Robin,  and  count  all  the 

steps  you  take  alone.    Ready  now.    One,  two,  thr 

What,  can't  you  go  any  further  than  that?    Now 

21 


22  CHILB  TRAINING 

I'm  ashamed  of  you.  I've  told  you  a  thousand  timeq 
that  there  is  nothing  to  be  afraid  of  in  this  hall. 
Nothing. 

*'It's  the  very  same  hall  you  go  up  and  down  all 
day  long.  Just  because  it  is  getting  sleepy  time  you 
grow  cowardly  and  whimper.  Brace  up  like  a  real 
boy  and  march  down  the  hall.  We'll  both  watch 
for  you." 

**No,  no.  The  bears  always  come  out  when  it 
begins  to  get  dark.    I " 

**It's  no  use,"  said  his  mother.  **He  is  afraid  and 
that  is  all  there  is  to  it.  I'll  have  to  take  him  as 
usual,"  and  she  carried  him  to  bed  and  tucked  him 
in.    Once  in  bed  he  was  asleep  in  no  time. 

**What  do  you  suppose  started  him  about  the 
bears?  He  has  not  been  told  any  bear  stories  that  I 
know  of.  He  has  never  been  frightened  by  any  ani- 
mal that  I  know  of,  I  cannot  understand  it.  I've 
been  so  careful  of  him,"  lamented  his  mother. 

The  teacher  stopped  in  that  evening  and  they  told 
her  about  the  bears. 

"Yes,"  she  said.  ''Some  children  do  have  fears 
like  that.  I'm  glad  he  told  you  what  it  was.  Some- 
times they  hide  it.  Buy  him  a  toy  bear.  Let  him 
select  one  in  the  shop  and  carry  it  home  himself. 
That  generally  cures  the  fear  of  the  bears." 

And  it  did. 


SYMPATHY 

Four-year-old  Kenneth  was  sitting  on  the  flooi^ 
opening  and  closing  the  bottom  drawer  of  the  sew^ 
ing  cabinet.  His  mother  sat  near  by  talking  to 
Aunt  Ella,  the  family  help  in  time  of  trouble. 

''They  all  seem  to  be  well  and  strong  except 
Ken,"  said  his  mother.  ''He  seems  to  take  every- 
thing to  heart  so.  None  of  the  others  is  a  bit 
like  him.  He  is  so  sensitive.  Things  touch  him 
more." 

And  to  prove  it  Kenneth  closed  the  drawer  on 
the  tip  of  his  finger  sufficiently  to  pinch  it  and  make 
a  tiny  blood  blister. 

He  held  up  his  hand  in  the  limp  fashion  that 
indicates  mortal  hurt,  grew  black  in  the  face  with 
suppressed  pain,  and  then  roared  with  the  power  of 
a  young  lion. 

His  mother  turned  pale  and  jumped  up.  Her 
spools  ran  towards  the  four  corners  of  the  room  and 
hid  themselves  under  the  furniture.  Her  scissors 
fell  with  a  clatter,  she  knocked  over  the  work  basket 
in  her  haste,  and  wound  her  feet  up  in  the  skirt  she 
had  been  hemming. 

"Quick,  Ella,  bring  me  some  hot  water.  Moll-ie, 
bring  me  a  bandage.  Hurry!  You'll  find  them  in 
the  medicine  cabinet.  Oh,  Ella,  did  you  get  the 
water?  Poor  Ken,  did  you  get  hurt?  Mother  is 
so  sorry.  There,  there,  mother  will  fix  you. 
Moll-ie !    Do  come  with  that  bandage. ' ' 

23 


24  CHILD  TRAINING 

Ella  set  a  bowl  of  hot  water  on  the  table  and 
sat  down  calmly  to  watch  what  happened. 

Mother  cuddled  Ken  in  her  arms,  rocked  him 
to  and  fro  and  crooned  over  him.  **  There,  there, 
the  bad  drawer  hurt  him.  Never  mind,  never  mind, 
mother's  poor  little  man." 

The  words  seemed  to  remind  Kenneth  of  his 
troubles  and  he  raised  his  voice  anew. 

Up  and  down  the  floor  his  mother  walked  with 
him,  soothing  him  and  assuring  him  how  sorry  she 
was  that  he  was  suffering,  and  all  the  while  Aunt 
Ella  sat  in  the  little  rocker  and  sewed  on  the  skirt 
mother  had  let  fall. 

**Mom,  dad's  downstairs  and  he  wants  you.  He's 
in  a  hurry,"  called  sturdy  Henry  from  the  door- 
way. 

Mother  looked  at  Aunt  Ella  and  then  at  Ken. 
"Take  him,  Ella.    I'll  come  back  in  a  minute." 

Aunt  Ella  took  him  and  stood  him  gently  on  the 
floor  beside  her  and  went  on  sewing.  Ken  gave 
a  roar  or  two  and  then  seated  himself  on  the  floor 
beside  her  and  began  playing  with  the  spools. 
When  mother  came  back  breathless  with  hurrying, 
she  was  astonished  to  hear  Ken  laughing. 

He  looked  up  at  his  mother  and  puckered  his  face 
ready  for  crying.  "Guess  you'd  better  go  on  with 
what  you  were  doing,"  said  Aunt  Ella.  "I'll  keep 
my  eye  on  Ken  until  dinner  time." 

Later  she  said:  "Don't  ever  pay  any  attention 
to  things  that  you  can  overlook.  If  he  has  to  be 
mended,  mend  him  and  don't  make  a  fuss  about  it. 
He  wasn't  hurt.  You'll  make  a  baby  of  him  if  you 
stop  the  world  to  watch  him  go  by.  Hide  your  feel- 
ings more  and  he'U  feel  less." 


HEE   BEDROOM 

"IVe  called  you  in,  doctor,  because  the  child  is 
becoming  so  nervous  and  excitable  that  something 
must  be  done.    She  does  not  sleep  well,  either." 

''Exactly,"  said  the  old  doctor,  setting  his  glasses 
firmly  on  his  nose  and  gazing  steadily  at  the  mite 
of  a  child  before  him,  twisting  and  wiggling  and 
squirming. 

"Doesn't  sleep?" 

"Not  the  way  a  child  ought  to  sleep.  She  goes 
to  bed  on  time,  but  she  does  not  feel  like  sleeping." 

"Aren't  you  sleepy  when  bedtime  comes?"  ques- 
tioned the  kindly  old  doctor. 

"No." 

"Aren't  you  tired?    Do  you  want  to  play  more?" 

"I'm  tired." 

"That's  just  it,'*  broke  in  her  mother.  "She 
goes  to  the  last  minute  and  you  can  see  that  she 
is  tired  out,  but  she  fights  off  sleep,  I  think.  She 
wants  to  go  on  and  on  from  one  thing  to  another.  So 
restless. 

"I've  tried  everything.  I  even  redecorated  her 
room,  thinking  that  might  help  to  make  sleeping  at- 
tractive. It  didn't  do  much  good.  I  took  a  lot  of 
pains  with  it,  too.  I  tramped  all  over  town  to  get 
the  animals  for  the  frieze,  and  I  had  a  decorator 
from  the  city  come  in  and  do  the  furniture.  But 
she  didn't  sleep  any  better." 

"I'd  like  to  see  the  new  room,"  said  the  doctor. 

25 


26  CHILD  TRAINING 

The  little  girl  led  the  way  and  threw  open  the 
door  of  her  bedroom. 

It  was  a  gay  place.  The  walls  were  painted  blue, 
the  color  of  the  sky.  A  frieze  of  all  the  animals 
of  the  ark  marched  gayly  around  the  walls.  To 
make  them  more  joyous,  they  were  done  in  colors, 
no  two  the  same  tone.  It  was  a  riot  of  color  and 
action,  an  inspiration,  but  not  to  sleep. 

The  furniture  was  plentiful  and  the  artist  had 
lavished  his  imagination  and  his  colors  on  that,  too. 
Birds  and  flowers  and  gorgeous  butterflies  edged 
one  another  off  the  French  gray  background. 

The  bedcover  had  not  escaped.  It  was  an  Alice 
in  Wonderland  affair,  showing  aU  the  little  crea- 
tures who  had  touched  that  young  person's  life.  A 
low  seat  ran  around  the  room  and  that  was  piled 
two  deep  with  "things" — dolls,  stuffed  animals, 
books,  mechanical  toys,  boxes  spilling  over  with 
more  toys. 

On  the  table  at  the  bedside  stood  an  array  of  the 
choice  ** things" — a  dancer  on  a  music  box,  a  watch, 
a  small  goat  that  meh-mehed  when  you  squeezed 
him  and  pranced  about  when  you  wound  him  up. 

'^The  child  sleeps  here?  I'm  afraid  she  finds  it 
rather  stimulating.  I'd  fit  up  another  room  with 
nothing  in  it  at  all  but  her  bed.  Mist  gray  walls 
and  curtains  and  open  windows.  The  room,  bare 
and  gray  and  still,  will  bring  repose.  Let  her  take 
one  doll  with  her  if  she  asks  for  one.  I  think  after 
a  few  nights  she  will  sleep." 

So  she  did.  First,  a  lonesome,  all-gone  feeling, 
then  a  gradual  relaxation,  and  then  sleep  fell  on 
the  tired  eyes. 

Too  many  things  in  your  house? 


WAKING  UP 

*'I  dread  having  to  waken  him  in  the  morning, 
It's  hard  enough  to  get  him  to  bed,  but  its  worse  get- 
ting him  up, ' '  sighed  his  mother. 

All  of  which  means  that  this  particular  child  was 
not  trained  properly  when  he  was  a  baby.  That's 
the  time  to  teach  bedtime  and  rising  time.  But 
often  when  bedtime  came  he  was  **good"  and  so 
was  allowed  to  stay  up  until  he  became  fretful  and 
bothered  the  family.  Then  he  was  put  to  bed  amid 
howls  and  protests. 

The  same  method  was  followed  about  his  rising 
time.  **0h,  he's  sleeping.  Let  him  sleep.  That 
will  give  me  a  chance  to  get  something  done  with- 
out having  him  on  my  mind."  So  his  rising  time 
became  the  time  he  woke  up  and  made  himself  so 
unpleasant  that  he  had  to  be  given  attention.  That 
is  why  now,  when  he  is  fourteen,  he  goes  to  bed 
when  he  feels  like  it  and  gets  up  when  he  feels 
like  it. 

It  is  hard  for  any  of  us  to  rise  in  the  morning. 
We  all  like  to  keep  as  much  daylight  as  possible 
between  ourselves  and  our  day's  work.  Necessity, 
backed  up  by  habit,  drags  us  out  and  drives  us  on 
until  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  our 
machinery,  having  been  set  in  motion,  goes  on  with 
less  effort  on  our  part. 

But  the  way  one  gets  up  in  the  morning  has  a 
great  deal  to  do  with  the  quality  of  the  work  he  will 

27 


28  CHILD  TRAINING 

do  that  day.  If  we  start  with  the  wrong  foot  out 
of  the  bed,  we  will  likely  march  on  it  all  day  long 
and  be  out  of  step  with  everybody  and  everything. 
What  is  true  for  us  in  this  instance  is  true  for  the 
children. 

When  you  go  to  call  a  child  in  the  morning,  set 
about  it  very  gently.  Pat  the  covers  softly  and  say 
his  name  softly.  Keep  on  doing  this  until  he  opens 
his  eyes.  Then  smile  at  him  and  say,  ''Time  to  get 
up,  son." 

A  loud  shout,  a  tremendous  knock  on  the  door 
give  the  sleeping  child  a  shock.  This  reacts  on  his 
nervous  system  unpleasantly  and  he  is  irritable  or 
sulky  or  weepy,  according  to  his  kind. 

Some  folk  think  the  proper  thing  to  do  to  waken 
a  sleepy  boy  is  to  pull  off  the  bed  clothes  and  take 
away  his  pillow  and  mess  things  up  generally. 
Some  heroic  ones  throw  water  on  him.  Such  peo- 
ple should  be  taken  aside  and  firmly  dealt  with  in 
a  manner  that  will  teach  them  to  refrain  from  such 
barbaric  performances. 

The  sleeping  child  must  be  wakened  gently, 
spoken  to  gently,  and  started  on  his  day  with  a 
cheery  greeting  if  he  is  to  have  any  chance  for  a 
good  day's  growth.  And  the  time  to  begin  train- 
ing him  for  getting  up  is  when  he  is  a  tiny  baby. 


DEESSING  HIMSELF 

**I  could  stand  everything  else  he  does,  and  he 
does  plenty,  if  he'd  only  be  good  enough  to  dress 
himself  under  an  hour  and  a  half.  Every  morning 
I  have  the  same  trouble  with  him. 

*'I  call  him  and  he  gets  up  and  sits  on  the  edge 
of  the  bed  and  rubs  his  eyes.  Then  I  leave  him, 
to  go  on  preparing  breakfast.  In  a  few  minutes 
I  go  back  and  find  that  he  has  undone  the  top  but- 
ton of  his  night  clothes. 

"  *  Hurry,'  I  say.  'Why  don't  you  dress  your- 
self? Quick  now,  get  off  your  pajamas !  Pull  them 
off.  Let  me  see  you  do  it.'  I  put  enough  energy 
into  my  voice  to  start  a  motor  car  and  he  drags 
himself  out  of  his  pajamas  and  picks  up  his  union 
suit. 

*'I  get  a  faint  whiff  of  burning  porridge  and  I  fly 
back  to  the  kitchen  and  go  on  with  my  work.  All 
the  time  I  know  that  he  is  sitting  on  the  edge  of 
the  bed  with  one  stocking  half  up  his  leg  and  his 
garters  dangling.  Eeally,  he  drives  me  frantic  1 
What  can  I  do  with  him  to  make  him  dress  himself? 
I  know  he  is  only  eight  years  old,  but  it  does  seem 
to  me  that  he  might  dress  himself." 

He  might,  and  sometimes  he  does,  but  more  often 
he  doesn't.  Some  children  do  not  learn  to  dress 
themselves  quickly  in  the  mornings  until  they  are 
big  boys  and  girls,  with  urgent  interests  calling 
them  to  hurry.    The  eight-year-old  has  little  inter- 

29 


30  CHILD  TRAINING 

est  in  dressing  himself.  It  is  a  difficult  task  for 
him.  It  makes  demands  on  him  that  he  is  not  pre- 
pared to  meet. 

You  see,  dressing  is  a  long  sequence  of  uninter- 
esting movements.  A  little  child  has  difficulty  in 
following  sequence  of  any  sort.  That  is  why  he 
cannot  set  the  table  without  a  lot  of  supervision. 
Dressing  and  setting  the  table  are  in  the  same  class 
of  activities. 

The  best  way  to  do  is  to  lay  out  his  clothes  at 
night  all  ready  for  him  to  put  on  in  the  morning 
in  the  order  in  which  he  needs  them.  Then  sit  be- 
side him  and  coach  him  while  he  dresses.  Put  in  all 
the  hard  buttons  and  tie  his  necktie  and  test  his 
shoelaces.  You  will  gain  time  in  the  end.  When 
he  gets  to  the  stage  of  growth  where  the  sequence 
is  established,  he  will  also  have  developed  a  set  of 
interests  and  ideas  that  will  put  dressing  into  the 
habit  class. 


) 


EEADY  FOR  DINNER 

**  Peter,  for  the  one  thousandth  time,  leave  the 
table  and  wash  your  hands.  I  believe  if  you  live 
to  be  a  thousand  years  old  I'll  have  to  tell  you  the 
same  thing. 

"Belle,  let  me  look  at  yours.  The  same  thing! 
Go  and  wash  your  hands  and  face  and  brush  your 
hair.  It  does  seem  to  me  that  when  you  are  as  old 
as  you  are  you  might  remember  to  make  yourself 
presentable  for  dinner.  I  'm  going  to  think  up  some 
way  of  punishing  you  when  you  come  to  the  table 
without  getting  ready.    That's  all  there  is  about  it." 

Punishing  them  won't  do  very  much  good,  if 
any.  No  child  ever  stops  his  play  in  order  to  wasK 
his  hands  and  face  and  make  himself  presentable  at 
the  dinner  table.  Not  unless  it  is  his  birthday,  or 
the  night  before  Christmas.  The  niceties  of  formal 
living  are  not  natural  to  children.  They  have  to 
be  painstakingly  cultivated. 

The  best  way  to  do  it  is  to  call  them  fifteen  min- 
utes before  dinner  and  set  them  to  work  with  the 
soap  and  water  and  brushes  and  towels.  Have  some 
signal  to  call  them,  a  bell  or  a  whistle,  every  night 
at  the  same  time.  It  will  take  the  whole  fifteen 
minutes,  because  they  are  very  slow  at  such  things. 

A  mother  who  lives  in  the  country  has  a  fine  ar- 
rangement for  this.  On  the  back  porch  there  is  a 
long  bench  which  the  children  use  as  a  washstand 
in  the  warm  weather.     There  is  a  closet  opening 

31 


32  CHILD  TRAINING 

off  the  porch  in  which  are  the  basins  and  soap  and 
towels  and  other  useful  things  for  washing  besides 
the  water. 

There  are  four  children,  and  they  fill  their  basins 
and  carry  them  to  the  bench  and  scrub  heartily, 
one  helping  the  other.  This  gives  them  a  chance 
to  ease  off  the  play  spirit  and  get  off  the  worst  of 
the  dirt,  before  entering  the  house.  Then  they  go 
to  their  rooms  and  complete  their  toilet. 

Just  before  they  leave  their  rooms  somebody 
looks  them  over  and  puts  on  the  finishing  touches. 
By  the  time  they  enter  the  dining  room  they  have 
settled  down,  and  the  knowledge  that  they  are  look- 
ing just  right  makes  them  feel  at  peace  with  the 
world  and  themselves,  which  is  the  attitude  in 
which  their  dinners  will  do  them  the  most  good. 

The  dressing  period  saves  friction  and  prevents 
their  having  to  be  disciplined  at  the  table,  which  is 
bad  for  everybody  concerned.  It  annoys  the  family 
and  spoils  all  pleasure  in  the  dinner  hour. 

Try  the  dressing  signal  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
before  dinner  and  see  how  much  it  helps  every- 
body. 


ONE  AT  A  TIME 

** Marietta,  do  use  your  knife!  Why  is  it  that  I 
have  to  tell  you  the  same  thing  over  and  over?" 

The  whole  family  stopped  eating  and  fastened 
cold  and  disapproving  eyes  on  Marietta.  She  let 
her  knife  fall.  She  clutched  at  it,  missed  it,  and 
upset  Aunt  Helen's  glass  of  water. 

''Goodness,  did  you  ever  see  anything  like  that 
child?"  asked  her  mother,  as  Marietta  rose  above 
the  table  once  more,  flushed  and  flustered. 

*'Sit  up,  child.  Your  shoulders  are  actually  in 
front  of  your  ears,"  prodded  grandmother  from  her 
end  of  the  table.  > 

''Yes,  you're  getting  positively  roui^d  shoul- 
dered," commented  Uncle  Peter,  reprovingly. 

"Doesn't  your  teacher  ever  say  anything  about 
the  way  you  sit  and  stand  and  carry  yourself?" 
asked  Aunt  Helen.  "I  don't  see  how  she  can  help 
it,  with  you  constantly  before  her  slumping  as  you 
do.  But  I  suppose  it  does  no  good,  for  you  are  as 
awkward  as  ever.  When  I  went  to  school  those 
things  were  a  part  of  our  daily  work." 

"Certainly,"  agreed  father.  "But  nowadays 
children  pay  little  heed  to  what  is  said  to  them. 
Everybody  in  the  house  has  told  Marietta  that  she 
is  clumsy  and  awkward  and  that  she  carries  herself 
like  a  bag  of  meal,  but  what  good  does  it  do? 

"Why,  if  we  had  had  one-half  the  teaching  that 
she  has  had  we  would  have  been  wonderful.    Nobody 

33 


34  CHILD  TRAINING 

paid  any  attention  to  how  we  did  things.  We  had 
to  get  along  as  well  as  we  could.  We  tried  to  help 
ourselves.  But  our  children?"  And  he  raised  his 
hands  in  a  despairing  gesture. 

Poor  Marietta,  acutely  aware  of  her  smallest  de- 
ficiency, tried  to  swallow  her  dinner.  The  more 
conscious  she  became,  the  more  clumsy  were  her 
movements.  When  dessert  was  served  she  was  al- 
most hysterical  and  spilled  the  first  spoonful  into 
her  lap. 

** Marietta,  what  ails  you?  Can't  you  eat  your 
meals  like  a  human  being?"  cried  her  indignant 
mother. 

* '  No, ' '  flared  out  Marietta.  *  *  I  can 't  eat  my  meals 
at  all  while  the  whole  family  nags  me  at  every 
mouthful.  I  wish  I  could  get  away  and  never  see 
another  one  of  you  as  long  as  I  lived." 

"Marietta!"  thundered  her  father. 

But  Marietta  had  fled  to  her  room  to  cry  it  out 
alone.  And  there  fell  a  conscience-stricken  silence. 
Then; 

"Well,  it  is  hard  to  have  the  whole  family  after 
you  at  once,"  said  mother  remorsefully. 


^^STOP  HIM" 

**  Nurse,  please  find  out  what  Master  Thomas  is 
doing  and  stop  him."  And  the  preoccupied  pro- 
fessor laid  another  sheet  of  work  aside.  At  least 
that  is  what  the  story  says  he  said. 

I  quite  believe  the  story.  So  many  folk  have  the 
notion  that  whatever  the  child  is  doing  ought  to  be 
stopped  at  once  and  he  should  do  something  that 
they  want  him  to  do.  To  be  sure,  they  are  not  at 
all  clear  as  to  what  he  ought  to  be  doing  or  why 
the  thing  they  want  him  to  do  is  any  better  for  him 
than  what  he  is  doing.  But,  then,  the  child  cannot 
be  right — stop  him. 

The  average  child's  life  is  one  long  series  of  inter- 
ruptions, from  dawn  to  dark.  If  he  is  eating  his 
cereal,  some  one  stops  him  to  instruct  him  as  to 
the  proper  way  of  holding  a  spoon.  He  is  lucky 
if  some  other  well-wisher  does  not  break  in  with  a 
brief  text  on  how  not  to  spill  porridge. 

Lessons  are  a  battle  between  the  effort  of  the 
child  to  get  his  job  done  and  the  struggle  of  the 
teacher  to  get  him  to  do  it  the  proper  way.  He 
starts  to  write  a  composition.  Now,  in  all  fairness, 
I  ask  you  could  you  write  a  story  without  misspell- 
ing a  single  word,  omitting  a  punctuation  mark, 
without  erasing  words,  crossing  out  whole  lines? 
Write  it  all  in  fine  penmanship,  sitting  up  and  hold- 
ing your  arm  and  your  penholder  exactly  as  the 
boy  in  the  picture  on  the  back  of  the  writing  manual 

35 


36  CHILD  TRAINING 

does  ?  Could  you  do  it  even  in  the  quiet  of  your  own 
office? 

That  is  what  the  usual  composition  lesson  seems 
to  demand  of  the  child.  **Sit  up.  Keep  your  feet 
flat.  Turn  your  paper  to  the  right.  Point  your 
penholder  over  your  shoulder.  Begin  every  sen- 
tence with  a  capital.  There — ^you've  blotted  your 
paper  I  If  you  wouldn't  take  so  much  ink  on  your 
pen  at  a  time,  you  wouldn't  have  so  many  blots. 
Make  a  new  paragraph  for  every  new  point."  A 
running  fire  of  advice  and  assistance  goes  on  all 
the  while  the  child  tries  to  write.  And  yet  the  child 
manages  to  hand  something  to  his  teacher  at  the  end 
of  the  period.    Good — patient  child. 

It's  the  same  thing  when  he  reaches  home  in 
the  afternoon.  He  thinks  he  is  free  for  a  time  at 
least.  He  will  play.  He  begins.  His  friends  come 
and  soon  they  are  lost  in  the  forest  of  Robin  Hood. 
The  horn  sounds  and  the  troops  rush  to  the  rescue. 
Then  mother  calls  from  the  window.  ''Jack,  put 
those  sticks  up  this  minute.  One  of  you  will  get 
hurt,  the  first  thing  you  know.  Can't  you  ever  play 
anything  that  won't  endanger  your  life?  Put  those 
sticks  up  and  come  in  this  minute." 

"Find  what  that  child  is  doing  and  stop  him." 
How  in  the  world  is  he  going  to  find  sufficient  time 
in  which  to  escape  us  and  really  grow  up? 


SOMETHIlSra  TO  DO 

The  secret  of  keeping  children  happy  is  keeping 
them  busy.  Their  minds  must  be  filled  with  whole- 
some thoughts  and  their  hands  occupied  with  useful 
things  to  be  done. 

The  fuzzy  rabbits  and  the  chicks  and  Teddy-bear 
are  not  the  fundamentals  in  this  job,  only  accesso- 
ries.   They  can  only  fill  in. 

If  you  have  a  busy  little  person  about  your  house 
it  is  well  to  invest  in  a  load  of  sea  sand,  a  set  of 
sand  molds,  and  a  couple  of  pails  and  shovels. 

Then  get  a  lot  of  blocks,  good-sized  ones.  The 
smallest  should  not  be  less  than  six  inches ;  the  long- 
est can  be  four  feet.  They  are  for  building  houses. 
The  bear  needs  a  house  and  so  does  the  doll. 

All  the  people  of  Mother  Goose  are  waiting  for 
houses  and  things,  and  the  dolls  and  the  animals  are 
useful.  They  can  occupy  the  houses  and  walk  along 
the  roads.    They  can  people  the  village. 

There  should  be  a  swing  for  two.  Things  that 
can  be  used  for  but  one  child  are  not  popular  in  the 
back  yard.  Things  must  be  shared  to  be  enjoyed. 
This  is  an  advantage  to  the  child,  for  he  gets  as 
he  gives. 

No  back  yard  is  complete  without  a  wagon.  It 
needs  to  be  a  good  stout  one,  so  that  one  person  may 
ride  while  another  is  the  * 'horse."  The  wagon  will 
be  used  to  its  limit.  It  carries  sand  and  stones  and 
lumber  for  the  building. 

37 


38  CHILD  TEAINING 

The  dog  is  often  the  passenger.  Every  child 
should  own  a  dog.  His  care  gives  the  child  a  chance 
to  think,  and  work  for,  and  love,  some  one  depen- 
dent upon  him.  The  dog  carries  the  idea  of  service, 
and  his  loyal  affection  feeds  a  craving  for  love  in 
the  child's  heart. 

The  cry  is  for  something  to  do,  something  satis- 
fying to  do.  To  be  sure,  people  think  that  play  is 
only  "child's  play."  But  then  play  is  the  child's 
business  in  Kfe.  With  him  it  is  a  serious  business. 
By  it  and  through  it  he  educates  himself.  His 
growth  depends  upon  it. 

The  child  who  drags  himself  about  whining  for 
something  to  do  becomes  stupid.  He  grows  ill  tem- 
pered. He  has  formed  the  habit  of  doing  nothing 
and  getting  nowhere.  It  will  be  difficult  to  change 
such  a  habit.  His  brain  paths  are  laid  out  in  lazi- 
ness, and  laziness  spells  degeneration. 

Then  give  the  child  something  to  do;  stimulate 
his  ideas  so  that  he  may  have  something  to  work 
out.  He  will  build  and  create ;  imitate  and  drama- 
tize the  world  about  him  and  the  world  that  we 
never  see,  his  own  child  world. 

Keep  him  busy  and  he  will  be  happy,  and  best 
of  all  to  the  busy,  tired  mother,  he  wiU  be  no  trouble 
at  all. 


he- 


GET  YOUE  BREATH 

**Gr-am,   gr-am,   granmother,   B-billy-uh,   Billy- 


>> 


Grandmother  looked  over  the  top  of  her  spectacles 
and  let  her  work  fall  gently  into  her  lap.  ''Stop, 
Sonny.  Wait  until  you  have  a  full  breath."  Then 
she  resumed  her  mending,  placidly  stitching  in  and 
out,  with  never  a  glance  at  Sonny. 

The  little  fellow  panted  for  a  minute  or  so, 
watched  gram's  fingers  as  they  moved  with  sure- 
ness  about  her  work,  forgot  his  excitement,  and 
said,  "Gram,  may  I  please  have  a  cookie?" 

Gram  smiled.  Sonny  always  remembered  his 
manners  when  he  wanted  a  cookie.  *'Yes,  just  one, 
though.  It's  close  to  lunch  time.  But  was  that 
what  you  came  in  for?" 

**No.  But  I  don't  care  now.  I'll  take  a  cookie 
and  go  out  again." 

Gram  assented  with  a  nod,  and  he  went  on  his 
way.  The  old  lady  well  knew  that  Sonny  had  come 
in  *' hot-foot,"  as  was  his  habit,  to  pour  out  a  com- 
plaint about  his  playmate  and  a  demand  that  justice 
be  administered — to  the  playmate.  He  was  in- 
clined to  lose  his  head  and  come  racing  home  to 
get  help  to  find  it. 

Over  and  over  again  gram  had  said,  **  Stop.  Wait 
till  you  get  a  full  breath.  Don't  ever  try  to  talk, 
don't  ever  try  to  do  anything,  until  you  have  a 

39 


40  CHILD  TEAINING 

pair  of  full  lungs  behind  you  and  a  long,  free  breath 
to  run  on.    If  you  do,  you're  lost." 

And  that's  the  truth.  In  this  day  of  hurry-scurry 
the  children  feel  the  pressure  of  haste.  They  snatch 
a  short  breath  from  the  top  of  their  lungs  and 
gabble  along  on  its  shallow  current,  only  to  gasp  and 
go  under. 

It's  a  calamity.  Breathing  should  be  a  deep,  free 
unconscious  motion.  Its  rhythmic  rise  and  fall  sets 
the  time  for  the  whole  body  and  mind  of  a  child. 
When  he  loses  control  of  it,  he  loses  control  of  him- 
self. 

When  he  is  frightened,  he  loses  his  breath,  his 
heart  jumps  to  his  mouth,  his  thoughts  scatter  like 
startled  sheep  before  the  enemy.  He  is  lost  until 
he  can  get  his  breath  under  control  and  marshal  his 
forces  under  it  once  more  in  orderly,  rhythmic 
array. 

''Wait  until  you  have  a  full  breath.  Sonny.  Don't 
speak,  don't  try  to  do  anything,  until  you  have  a 
pair  of  full  lungs  behind  you.  Train  yourself  so 
that  you'll  never  lose  control  of  your  breath. 

"When  you  are  frightened,  when  you  are  angry, 
when  you  are  in  great  trouble,  think  of  this  and 
wait  until  you  get  a  full  breath." 


GRANDFATHER   KNOWS 

Benjy  was  in  the  kindergarten.  He  loved  to  be 
out  of  doors.  He  was  a  strong,  healthy,  active  child, 
but  his  mother  was  always  afraid  to  let  him  face  the 
weather.  She  was  sure  the  wind  and  the  rain  and 
the  snow  would  hurt  Benjy. 

One  March  day  the  wind  started  out  to  caper 
across  country.  The  twigs  and  the  dead  leaves  and 
scraps  of  paper  went  sailing  through  the  air.  The 
fluffy  bits  of  white  cloud  raced  across  the  heavens 
with  the  wind  in  full  pursuit.  It  was  an  exhilarat- 
ing day  for  sturdy  boys. 

Benjy 's  mother  looked  out  of  the  window  and 
said,  ''I'll  go  over  to  the  school  and  walk  home 
with  Benjy.  I  don't  like  to  have  him  face  that  wind 
alone."    And  she  did. 

She  took  Benjy  by  the  hand  and  together  they 
walked  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  that  led  to  their  home. 
Here  they  stopped  to  rest.  The  mother  thought, 
''This  is  a  terrible  hill.  A  little  child  could  not 
face  that  wind  and  climb  to  the  top  alone.  I'm 
glad  I  came  to  help  him  up." 

They  started  up  the  hill.  Every  few  minutes  they 
stopped  to  rest.  Again,  mother  made  Benjy  turn 
his  back  to  the  wind  and  "catch  his  breath." 

"I  don't  need  any  breath,  mother.  I  like  the 
wind.    It  is  lots  of  fun  when  it  chases  you. ' ' 

At  the  top  of  the  hill  they  met  grandfather  out 
for  his  walk.    They  stopped  for  a  chat.   Benjy,  find- 

141 


42  CHILD  TRAINING 

ing  himself  free,  raced  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill. 
His  mother  was  greatly  concerned. 

*  *  Now,  how  in  the  world  will  he  ever  get  up  ?  And 
I've  just  struggled  up  here  with  him.  I'll  have  to 
go  down  for  him." 

*  *  No,  no,  don 't  do  that, ' '  said  grandfather.  *  *  See, 
he's  coming  up  himself." 

Benjy  started  up  the  hill.  He  staggered  and 
dodged  and  side-stepped  and  backed  his  way  up. 

"There  he  comes,"  said  grandfather  proudly. 
"Let  him  alone.  He  wants  to  battle  with  the  wind. 
It's  a  good  sign  in  the  child.  It  will  do  him  good  to 
learn  that  he  can  master  the  wind  and  the  hill.  It 
is  his  right.    Let  him  fight  his  way." 

Grandfather  knew.  He  had  learned  what  it  takes 
most  of  us  a  lifetime  to  find  out — that  it  is  the 
struggle  and  the  self-mastery  that  count.  He  had 
learned  that  each  must  fight  his  own  battle  and  take 
whatever  punishment  comes  of  it.  To  do  less  is  to 
own  to  failure. 


NONSENSE 

Children  love  nonsense  and  it  is  good  for  them. 
They  love  nonsense  rhymes,  and  nonsense  stories, 
and  nonsensical  conversations.  They  thrive  on 
them.  Most  of  their  command  of  language  is  gained 
through  them. 

Did  you  ever  learn  Lear's  nonsense  alphabet 
when  you  were  a  child?  It's  lots  of  fun.  There's 
a  nonsense  verse  for  every  letter.  The  children 
sing  them  over  and  over,  and  giggle  joyously  be- 
tween the  lines. 

"G"  always  gives  trouble,  but  it  vanishes  when 
they  learn  the  rhyme  for  it  and  the  sound  that  comes 
at  the  end  in  a  burst  of  laughter. 

**G  is  for  goat  all  spotted  with  brown, 
When  he  doesn't  lie  still 
He  walks  up  and  down. 

C^,  g,  g, 

Good  little  goat.'* 

You  make  noises  with  those  last  g*s  and  stamp 
your  foot  and  the  goat  jumps  up  and  you  laugh 
heartily. 

I  thought  of  the  nonsense  alphabet  and  the  fun 
the  children  got  out  of  it,  and  how  much  they  learned 
by  it  when  a  mother  scolded  her  little  girl  for  chant- 
ing the  same  rhyme  over  and  over  again. 

**Stop   that  silly  nonsense,"  her  mother  com- 

43 


44  CHILD  TRAINING 

manded.  ''Stop  it,  and  if  you  want  to  chant  some- 
thing, chant  'My  Shadow.'  That  at  least  will  teach 
you  something." 

I  shuddered  and  hoped  she  wouldn't.  She  didn't. 
She  moved  away  a  bit  and  kept  on  singing  her 
song: 

"Mousey,  dousey,  bowsey,  tousey, 
Made  his  cheese  in  his  little  housey, 
Wee-ee-ee,  dousey." 

She  chanted  it  over  and  over,  raising  her  voice  to 
a  squeak  on  the  last  "ee"  and  bringing  both  feet 
down  with  an  emphatic  thump  at  the  end. 

She  was  learning  to  use  the  English  language  in 
the  best  possible  way  for  her  to  learn  it,  through 
experiment  and  practice. 

"A  little  nonsense  now  and  then  is  relished  by  the 
best  of  men,"  and  little  children.  If  you  have  for- 
gotten all  your  Mother  Goose  rhymes  and  you  have 
children  about  you,  buy  a  new  edition  as  soon  as 
possible  and  go  straight  through  the  book  with  them. 

And  if  you  haven't  a  copy  of  Lear  handy,  now 
is  the  best  time  to  get  one.  The  children  need  his 
nonsense.    Maybe  you  do,  too. 


PET 

Cousin  Mary  drove  up  to  the  house  in  the  station 
cab.  She  was  filled  with  the  anticipation  of  a  fine 
day  with  her  cousin  and  her  little  daughter  **Pet," 
whom  she  had  never  seen. 

^^ Don't  give  him  more  than  thirty-five  cents, 
Cousin  Mary.  If  you  do,  he'll  take  it.  Mother 
never  gives  him  any  more.'* 

Cousin  Mary,  a  bit  embarrassed,  gave  the  man 
half  a  dollar.  He  took  it,  managing  to  express  his 
thanks  to  Cousin  Mary  and  malediction  upon  **Pet" 
with  the  same  motion  of  his  head.  Pet  stuck  her 
tongue  out  at  him  and  led  the  way  into  the  house. 

Cousin  Mary  laid  her  hat,  trimmed  with  the  gor- 
geous tail  feathers  of  a  pheasant,  on  the  hall  table. 
Cousin  Mary  treasured  those  tail  feathers.  She 
was  no  sooner  seated  in  the  living  room  when  Pet 
marched  in,  waving  the  beautiful  feathers  like  a  mili- 
tant banner. 

*' Where  did  you  get  those  feathers,  Pet?"  asked 
her  mother  anxiously. 

**0n  the  hall  table." 

"On  the  hall  table?  What  do  you  mean?  Did 
you  pull  them  out  of  Cousin  Mary's  hat?" 

**  Maybe." 

**Go  and  put  them  back  on  the  table  like  a  good 
girl.  Cousin  Mary  will  not  like  you  if  you  do  things 
like  that.     Put  them  back." 

"No.    I  want  to  play  with  them." 

45 


46  CHILD  TRAINING 

**You  ask  her  for  them,  Mary.  Maybe  she  will 
give  them  to  you." 

Too  much  astounded  for  speech,  Mary  stepped 
forward  and  took  the  feathers  out  of  the  child's 
hand.  Pet  was  not  prepared  for  such  direct  action. 
When  she  found  that  she  had  lost  the  feathers  she 
cried,  she  screamed,  she  kicked. 

"That's  the  trouble,"  said  her  mother.  *'I  can- 
not force  her  to  do  anything.  Her  heart  is  weak  and 
I'm  afraid  of  excitement  for  her." 

Cousin  Mary  felt  guilty  and  troubled.  But  what 
was  she  to  do  ?  The  child  should  not  pull  the  feath- 
ers out  of  one 's  hat,  she  reasoned. 

Luncheon  time  arrived,  and  Cousin  Mary  was 
hungry  after  her  journey.  "You  will  have  a  chop, 
Mary.  I  know  you  love  baked  potatoes  piping  hot," 
and  she  passed  the  plate  to  Mary. 

"No,  no,  no,"  screamed  Pet.  "Let  me  serve  her. 
Take  them  all  off  and  let  me  serve  her." 

Mother  took  back  the  plate,  replaced  the  food, 
and  told  Pet  to  go  ahead  and  serve  Cousin  Mary. 
By  and  by  Mary  got  her  luncheon,  but  it  was  noli 
exactly  "piping  hot." 

All  afternoon  Pet  dominated  the  conversation. 
At  five  Cousin  Mary  remembered  that  she  had  to 
be  in  town  early  and  left  for  the  five-twenty.  Some- 
thing told  her  that  it  would  be  about  five  years 
before  she  wanted  to  see  "Pet"  again. 


BESSIE  WON'T  EAT 

**0h,  good  morning.  Please  let  me  have  Bessie. 
I  must  take  her  home  at  once."  The  mother  who 
entered  the  principal's  office  was  breathless  and 
nervous. 

''Why,  of  course.  You  could  have  had  a  pass 
from  the  office  downstairs  and  saved  you  this  trip 
up  to  mine.    Nothing  wrong,  I  hopef" 

*'Yes.  It's  Bessie.  She's  giving  me  lots  of 
trouble.  The  clerk  wouldn't  give  me  a  pass  for 
her.  She  told  me  to  come  up  and  tell  you.  I've 
had  to  come  and  take  Bessie  home  every  day  this 
week.  The  clerk  won't  give  me  any  more  passes, 
she  says,  unless  you  tell  her  to." 

*'But  why  did  you  have  to  take  her  out  of  school 
every  day  this  week  ? ' ' 

* 'Because  she  won't  eat  for  me.  She  won't  eat 
a  mouthful  of  breakfast,  and  I'm  afraid  she  will 
faint,  and  I  have  to  come  and  get  her  and  see  that 
she  gets  something  to  eat." 

"Oh,  this  won't  do.  Bessie  must  have  her  break- 
fast on  time  and  get  to  work  on  time." 

"That's  what  I  know,  but  she  won't  eat  for  me, 
and  what  will  I  do?" 

"You'll  have  to  teach  her." 

"But  how?  Tell  me  how.  I've  sat  beside  her 
and  coaxed  her  to  eat  a  spoonful  at  a  time.  She 
bargains  with  me  for  every  bite.    'I'll  eat  one  bite 

47 


48  CHILD  TRAINING 

of  bread.'  *I*11  eat  one  spoonful  of  oatmeal.*  'I'll 
drink  part  of  the  milk.*  I'm  nearly  crazy.  What 
will  become  of  a  child  who  won't  eat?" 

"Do  you  really  want  her  to  stop  this?" 

**  Indeed  I  do.  She  has  me  worn  out  and  worried 
so  I  can't  sleep.  I'm  afraid  she'll  starve  herself  to 
death." 

The  little  lady  was  sent  for  and  came  to  the  office 
briskly.  She  looked  healthy  enough  and  quite  ready 
for  a  breakfast. 

''Why  didn't  you  eat  your  breakfast  this  morn- 
ing, Bessie?" 

"I  wasn't  hungry."  And  a  stubborn  light 
gleamed  in  Bessie's  blue  eyes. 

**Very  well.  Quite  right.  One  should  not  eat 
when  one  is  not  hungry,'*  said  the  principal.  "You 
may  go  back  to  your  room." 

The  look  of  stubborn  purpose  gave  place  to  one 
of  indignant,  grieved  surprise.  But  Bessie  obedi- 
ently returned  to  the  classroom. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  let  her  come  home  and  have 
something  to  eat?"  asked  her  anxious  mother. 

"No.  You  want  to  cure  her?  Don't  give  her  any 
food  until  the  next  meal  time  comes  around.  If  she 
eats,  all  right.  If  she  doesn't,  all  right.  Let.  her 
alone  until  she  eats  of  her  own  accord,  and,  what- 
ever you  do,  don't  let  her  think  you  care  a  bit 
about  it. 

'  *  The  minute  the  meal  is  over  for  the  family,  clear 
it  away  and  don 't  offer  her  anything  between  meals. 
She'll  eat  when  she  finds  that  you  do  not  intend  to 
play  with  her  any  more.  For  that  is  what  she  is 
doing.  She  is  playing  with  you.  When  the  game  is 
over  forever,  and  she  recognizes  that  it  is,  you'll 
have  no  more  trouble." 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  49 

It  won't  do  to  let  the  children  dramatize  their 
world  too  much.  High-strung  children  are  likely 
to  do  it  unless  their  parents  are  wise  in  dealing  with 
them. 


THE  BABY 

It  was  near  the  end  of  the  term.  Everybody  was 
talking  about  being  promoted  or  being  left  back. 
The  brilliant  ones  who  knew  they  stood  at  the  head 
of  the  class  were  sure  they  were  going  to  be  left 
back.  It  was  so  pleasant  to  have  the  plodding  neigh- 
bor say,  ''¥ou  left  back?  I  wish  I  was  as  sure  as 
you  are." 

Altogether  it  was  a  time  of  much  laughter  and 
chatter.  The  second-year  class  did  not  have  exami- 
nations. You  have  to  be  on  the  second  floor  in  the 
third  or  fourth  year  before  you  can  have  examina- 
tions. 

Miss  Lavinia  comes  in  to  hear  you  say  your  tables 
and  read  and  tell  stories,  and  that  is  quite  as  excit- 
ing. 

You  hope  you  will  be  very  smart  and  that  Miss 
Lavinia  will  say:  *'My,  how  bright  you  are  to- 
day !  You  will  be  upstairs  before  the  teacher  knows 
what  has  happened."  And  the  teacher  will  smile 
at  you  and  look  pleased. 

One  day,  just  before  promotion,  she  went  into 
the  second-year  room  and  gave  the  class  "men- 
tals." Mentals  are  number  stories  that  you  do 
in  your  head.  You  have  to  say  the  answers  quick, 
snap,  just  like  lightning. 

It  is  lots  of  fun  if  you  know  them.  And  Miss 
Lavinia  is  always  lucky  in  finding  the  ones  you 
know.   If  you  don't  know  naught  and  six  she  always 

so 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  51 

gives  it  to  some  one  else.    Funny,  how  she  knows. 

But  once  she  didn't  know.  She  thought  Eaphael 
knew  about  counting  money,  and  he  didn't.  Every- 
body else  did.  She  said  to  John:  **If  you  had  a 
dime  and  a  nickel  and  a  quarter,  how  much  money 
would  you  have  ? " . 

He  laughed  right  out  and  said,  ** Forty  cents," 
quicker  than  a  wink. 

Then  she  asked  Mike  and  Teddy  and  Armand, 
and  they  all  knew  how  to  count  money  in  their  heads. 
It  was  so  easy. 

Then  she  asked  Eaphael  one,  and  he  didn't  an- 
swer. He  looked  just  as  if  he  didn't  understand. 
And  he  didn't.  Miss  Lavinia  showed  him  a  nickel 
and  asked  him  how  much  was  that,  and  he  didn't 
know.  She  asked  him  if  he  ever  bought  anything 
at  the  store  and  he  said  "No." 

She  asked  him  if  his  mother  ever  sent  him  out  to 
buy  a  loaf  of  bread  or  a  quart  of  milk,  and  he  said 
**No." 

John  piped  up.  **No.  He  isn't  ever  allowed  to 
go  down  on  the  street.  His  mother  brings  him  to 
school  by  his  hand,  or  his  aunt." 

Miss  Lavinia  went  to  call.  John  had  the  story 
right.  Raphael  was  eight  years  old  and  had  never 
in  all  his  life  gone  down  to  the  street  alone.  He  had 
never  gone  into  a  store  alone;  never  bought  any- 
thing ;  had  never  done  anything  on  his  own  responsi- 
bility.   He  could  not  cross  the  street  alone. 

A  child  who  cannot  have  freedom  for  growth  can- 
not grow. 


MANNERS 

Good  manners  are  a  charming  quality  in  old  and 
young  alike.  Everybody  admires  them,  few  folks 
acquire  them.  In  this  land  of  democracy  there  is 
a  tendency  to  excuse  one's  lack  of  grace  by  crying, 
"snob,"  ** aristocrat,"  *' poseur"  at  the  one  who  has 
fine  manners.  We  do  not  really  mean  it.  In  our 
secret  hearts  we  envy  the  graceful  speech  and  cour- 
teous action  of  well-trained  behavior. 

The  reason  people  are  bad  mannered  is  simply  be- 
cause they  know  no  better.  No  one  ever  taught  them 
any  better.  They  have  lived  and  associated  with 
those  who  were  bad  mannered.  Imitation  is  a  sure 
road  to  acquirement,  and  the  fact  of  the  matter  is, 
the  model  has  been  bad. 

Consider  our  manners  in  the  cars.  There  is  one 
empty  seat  as  the  train  pulls  into  the  station.  A 
group  enters.  A  man  and  a  woman  see  the  empty 
seat  at  the  same  moment.  They  race  for  it.  The 
man,  who  happens  to  be  the  heavier  and  the  more 
belligerent  of  the  two  on  this  occasion,  reaches  it 
first  and  seats  himself.  The  woman  discomfited, 
says  *'Hog!"  She  may  have  been  right  about  it, 
but  wasn't  it  rather  crude? 

The  man  glances  sideways  from  the  paper  he  is 
already  unfolding  and  sticks  his  tongue  out.  Hu- 
man enough,  but  very,  very  raw. 

Watching  them  with  round  and  startled  eyes,  the 
children  about  them  have  learned  a  lesson  in  travel- 

52 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  53 

ing  courtesies  that  will  linger  long  in  their  memo- 
ries. The  ** dramatic  element,"  as  the  teacher 
would  term  it,  was  strong.  The  lesson  would  surely 
sink  in. 

The  restaurant  is  a  fine  place  for  the  study  of  bad 
manners.  There  is  the  gentleman  who  takes  his 
soup  exultingly  with  loud  whoops  of  joy.  His  ap- 
preciation extends  even  to  the  last  spoonful,  which 
he  chases  around  the  bottom  of  the  plate,  at  last 
cornering  it  with  a  twist  of  the  wrist  and  a  tilt  of 
the  plate. 

Opposite  him  sits  the  lady  whose  right  arm  is 
glued  to  the  table.  She  conveys  her  food  to  her 
mouth  with  much  the  attitude  and  effort  of  a  hob- 
bled horse. 

The  boy  who  lives  in  our  house  watched  her  with 
fascinated  eyes  and  at  the  first  opportunity  tried 
how  it  worked. 

There  is  the  person  who  reads  over  your  shoulder, 
the  child  who  stares  you  out  of  countenance  and 
makes  remarks  about  your  style  of  nose  in  tones 
loud  enough  for  all  about  to  hear. 

There  is  the  individual  who  reads  the  letter  that 
happens  to  be  lying  open  on  your  desk,  the  one  who 
leaves  the  door  open,  the  one  who  stands  in  front 
of  you  and  breathes  into  your  face. 

Why,  oh,  why  are  they  allowed  to  grow  up  with 
such  manners'? 


TEACHING  MANNERS 

One  of  my  neighbors  came  down  the  street  leading 
a  little  boy  by  the  hand.  The  little  fellow  was  chat- 
ting happily  as  fast  as  his  tongue  could  go  and  his 
breath  could  support.  His  father  was  looking  down 
at  him  and  smiling. 

They  looked  so  friendly  and  happy  as  I  came 
along  that  I  smiled  too  and  said, '  *  How  do  you  do  ?' ' 

My  neighbor  stopped  and  said,  **Fine  day.  This 
is  my  little  boy,  Nick.  Look  up,  Nick,  and  say, 
^Howdor  " 

The  little  fellow  twined  himself  about  his  father  *s 
legs  and  turned  his  head  away. 

His  father  shook  him  off  and  tried  to  face  him 
about.  **Say,  'How  do?'  What's  the  matter  with 
you?"  he  demanded. 

The  child  twisted  away  from  his  father  and  again 
hid  his  face. 

"Here!  Now,  what's  the  matter  with  you?  Who 
you're  afraid  of  ?  Nobody's  going  to  bite  you.  Say 
'How  do?'  " 

''He's  shy;  let  him  alone,"  I  begged.  "When  he 
knows  me  better  he  will  be  friends  with  me  and  say 
all  sorts  of  things." 

"Shy,  nothing.  You  ought  to  hear  him  home. 
Makes  more  noise  than  the  whole  crew  put  together. 
Here,  what's  the  matter  with  you?  Say  'How 
do?'" 

More  twistings  and  more  squirming,  but  no  sound 

54 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  55 

came  from  the  poor  little  lad,  who  tried  to  hide  be- 
hind his  father,  who  would  have  him  have  some 
manners  and  say  ''How  do?" 

"Children  are  very  brave  at  home,  but  it  is  differ- 
ent when  they  are  outside, ' '  I  went  on,  trying  to  beg 
the  little  fellow  off.    * '  They  are  really  afraid. ' ' 

''Afraid?  What's  he  afraid  of?  You?  He 
knows  who  you  are.  He  sees  you  go  by  every  day 
and  tells  the  children.  All  the  children  know  you. 
Here,  say  'How  do?'  '* 

I  patted  the  black  locks,  which  was  all  I  could 
touch  at  that  minute.  He  was  a  great  squirmer. 
"Never  mind,  son.  Another  time  you  will  know  me 
and  then  you  can  say  'How  do?'  to  me." 

His  father  gave  him  a  shake.  "Here,  stand  up 
and  behave  yourself.  Say  'How  do?'  Say  'How 
do?' I  tell  you." 

The  child,  frantically  struggling  to  get  behind  his 
father,  who  was  now  holding  him  with  both  hands, 
looked  up  at  the  sky  as  though  pleading  for  heavenly 
assistance  and  gasped,  "Hullo." 

Then  his  father  went  down  the  street  dragging 
him  along  by  the  hand,  firmly  convinced  that  he 
had  taught  him  some  manners. 

But  had  he?  I  think  manners  are  taught  by 
everyday  practice.  They  cannot  be  forced.  They 
are  the  flowers  of  conduct,  a  slow,  gentle  growth. 


GUM  CHEWING 

Aunt  Marie  was  visiting  her  favorite  niece.  She 
liked  to  run  in  for  a  week  now  and  again  **to  see 
how  the  children  were  growing. ' ' 

To-day  she  had  a  wrinkle  between  her  brows,  and 
another  across  her  nose.  Plainly  something  had 
gone  wrong. 

"Caroline,  what  in  the  world  are  you  allowing  the 
children  to  chew  gum  all  over  the  place  for!" 

**Now,  Aunt  Marie,  chewing  gum  isn't  going  to 
do  the  children  any  harm.  I  like  a  piece  once  in  a 
while  myself.  Don't  be  a  joy  killer.  I  should  hate 
to  have  you  become  one  of  those  disagreeable  re- 
formers that  are  always  reforming  all  our  little 
innocent  pleasures  off  the  face  of  the  earth." 

"Far  be  it  from  me,"  prayed  Aunt  Marie.  "But 
what  is  the  pleasure  in  chewing  gum?  You  don't 
find  pleasure  in  waggling  your  ears,  or  twiddling 
your  fingers  and  toes,  or  rocking  back  and  forth  like 
an  elephant,  so  why  waggle  your  jaws  all  day?" 

"For  the  comfort  one  gets  out  of  it.  It  relieves 
the  tension. ' ' 

"I  don't  see  that  the  children  are  under  any 
tension.  But  they  are  constantly  chewing.  They 
stick  their  gum  under  the  edge  of  the  table  so  that 
they  may  resume  their  pleasure,  interrupted  by  the 
dinner  call.  They  stick  it  on  the  heads  of  their  beds 
when  sleep  interrupts  them.    I'm  sorry  to  say  talk- 

66 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  57 

ing  never  seems  to  interrupt  the  chewing.  They 
talk  right  along  with  their  mouths  full. 

'^ There's  a  gob  of  it  in  the  sink  and  it's  next  to 
impossible  to  get  it  off.  There 's  a  wad  of  it  trodden 
into  the  rug.  Maybe  it's  all  pleasure  but  it  looks 
to  me  like  a  mess." 

**Now  you're  exaggerating.  I  can't  see  the  harm 
in  the  children 's  having  a  bit  of  gum  now  and  then. ' ' 

*'It  isn't  harm.  It's  bad  manners.  How  would 
you  feel  if  the  President's  wife  came  to  call  on  you 
and  found  you  with  a  mouth  full  of  gum?  How 
would  you  feel  if,  when  the  children  were  brought 
in  to  be  introduced  to  her,  they  had  gum  in  their 
hands  or  in  their  mouths  ? ' ' 

**0h,  Aunt  Marie,  how  absurd!  In  the  first 
place " 

*'Now  don't  tell  me  that,  Caroline.  Our  ancestors 
called  upon  the  President  and  Mrs.  Washington  and 
were  called  upon  by  them.  You  cannot  say  that  you 
do  not  hope  to  have  your  children  received  in  the 
best  homes  and  by  the  best  people  in  the  land.  Why 
shouldn't  they  be  trained  to  meet  anybody?  It's 
always  best  to  prepare  them  for  the  highest.  Why 
not!'' 

Why  not,  indeed!, 


MANNERISMS 

Mannerisms  are  an  affliction  to  him  who  has  them 
and  to  him  who  looks  upon  them.  Watch  for  their 
appearance  in  the  children  and  train  them  out. 
They  are  always  in  bad  taste  and  sometimes  down- 
right harmful. 

Many  little  girls  are  beset  by  them.  Perhaps  it  is 
because  they  are  self-conscious.  Perhaps  it  is  be- 
cause they  are  worried.  Try  to  find  out  the  cause 
of  the  annoying  habit  and  eliminate  it. 

One  little  girl  had  a  trick  of  sucking  in  her  cheeks. 
She  was  well  on  the  road  to  destroying  the  contour 
of  her  face  when  a  teacher  placed  a  mirror  before 
her  and  kept  it  there  until  she  learned  how  ugly  the 
habit  was.    Then  she  stopped  it. 

A  thirteen-year-old  boy  took  up  the  habit  of  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders  every  time  he  was  called  upon  to 
recite.  No  amount  of  correction  seemed  to  check  it. 
As  soon  as  he  rose  to  his  feet  up  went  the  shoulders. 

One  day  in  class,  when  his  mannerism  had,  if 
possible,  been  more  marked  than  usual,  a  girl  sitting 
near  him  giggled  and  imitated  him.  That  settled 
him.    His  shrug  disappeared. 

Now  and  again  a  child  imitates  some  mannerism 
of  a  grown-up  person.  Some  little  trick  of  manner 
that  appeals  to  the  child  is  taken  up  and  practiced 
again  and  again  until  it  becomes  an  annoying  habit. 

A  teacher  of  English  had  a  pretty  little  affecta- 
tion of  speech.   She  would  hesitate  for  a  word,  catch 

68 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  59 

at  it,  and  hurry  along.  The  teacher  was  conscious 
of  the  mannerism.  She  cultivated  it.  As  she  used 
it,  it  was  attractive.     But 

A  little  girl  of  fourteen  who  attended  her  classes 
adopted  the  mannerism.  Not  being  an  adept  at  it, 
she  attracted  the  attention  of  the  English  teacher, 
who  reported  that  the  child  had  suddenly  begun  to 
stammer,  never  recognizing  her  own  pretty  trick  of 
speech. 

A  small  boy  went  patiently  to  the  railroad  station 
day  after  day  and  studied  the  drawl  and  the  slouch 
and  the  long  breath  sucked  through  the  teeth  of  the 
station  agent.  Privately  he  practiced  these  until  he 
was  almost  perfect  in  their  reproduction.  When  the 
family  discovered  the  source  of  his  inspiration  he 
had  a  well  settled  habit  that  required  a  term  of  care- 
ful teaching  to  break  up. 

Everybody  has  met  the  dreadful  children  who 
drum  on  the  furniture  with  their  hands  or  feet,  who 
whistle  through  their  teeth,  who  rock  violently  back 
and  forth  in  the  rocking  chair  when  one  wants  to 
be  quiet,  who  sway  out  and  in  upon  their  ankle  joints 
until  one  expects  them  to  snap,  who  roll  their  eyes 
like  wild  ponies,  who  giggle,  and  wiggle,  and  squirm. 

These  are  only  mannerisms  and  can  be  trained  out 
easily  by  bringing  them  to  the  child's  consciousness. 


^^aiMME  A  PENNY'' 

"Mother,  gimme  a  penny." 

*' What  for?" 

**I  want  something." 

"No.    You  don't  need  anything.    Not  a  thing." 

"Yes,  I  do.  I  want  to  buy  candy.  The  candy 
man's  on  the  corner." 

"No.  You  had  candy  last  night.  That's 
enough. ' ' 

"Aw-w-no-o,  it  isn't.  I  want  a  piece  now-w-w," 
and  he  began  digging  his  toe  into  the  floor. 

"I  don't  see  why  you  should  have  a  penny  every 
day.  No.  It  isn't  good  for  you.  Go  and  play  with 
your  things.  Now,  go  on.  Anyway,  I  haven't  a 
penny." 

"Yes,  you  have,"  Buddie  insisted.  "I  saw  one  in 
your  bag.  Gimme  a  penny,"  and  his  whine  in- 
creased to  an  ear-splitting  roar. 

"Dear  me,"  said  the  exasperated  mother.  "Bud- 
die, you  are  the  most  annoying  child  I  ever  saw. 
Can't  you  hear  what  I  sayf  There  ought  to  be  a 
law  against  candy  peddlers." 

Louder  and  louder  Buddie  howled.  "I  want  a 
penny.    Gimme  a  penny." 

"Stop  that  noise.  Stop  it  this  minute.  The 
neighbors  will  think  you  are  being  killed.  Here, 
take  this  penny,  and  don't  ask  me  for  another  one 
for  a  month." 

The  howls  ceased  instantly.    Buddie  seized  the 

60 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  61 

penny  and  raced  off  to  the  candy  man,  who  was  wait- 
ing on  the  comer.  By  and  by  Buddie  returned  with 
a  piece  of  sticky  brown  stuff  he  called  a  *' candy 
hunk.'*  He  had  smeared  it  all  over  his  clothes,  and 
his  hands  and  face  were  daubed  as  though  dipped 
in  an  uneven  chocolate  wash. 

*' Mercy,"  groaned  his  mother.  **Stay  away. 
Don't  touch  ^anything.  Don't  go  near  my  sewing. 
Come  along  and  I'll  wash  you.  You're  as  dirty  as 
a  pig.  Look  at  your  hands.  Look  at  your  face. 
Look  at  your  blouse.  Every  stitch  on  you  is 
daubed, ' '  and  she  stripped  and  washed  him  none  too 
gently. 

Toward  supper  time  Buddie  became  very  restless. 
He  whined  and  fussed  and  wiggled  about.  He 
wanted  a  drink.  He  wanted  a  piece  of  ice.  He 
wanted — ^wanted — ^wanted.  Finally,  **I'm  sick.  I'm 
awful  sick,  mother-r." 

After  Buddie's  tormented  stomach  had  settled 
down  once  more  and  his  tired  mother  had  sunk  into 
her  chair  she  said  to  father,  **  There  ought  to  be  a 
law  against  candy  peddlers.    It's  a  shame." 

Wouldn't  it  help  if  mothers  kept  candy  in  the 
house  and  gave  it  to  the  children  when  they  ought 
to  have  it?  Children  need  candy,  but  it  should  be 
clean  and  good.  The  candy  peddler  is  a  nuisance. 
The  penny  habit  is  another  to  match  it.  Do  away 
with  both  of  them. 


ENTERTAINING  MARY 

*' Pudge"  was  eight  and  a  half  and  a  sturdy  lad, 
as  his  nickname  indicates.  He  behaved  rather  well 
on  the  whole,  for  his  mother  took  endless  pains  to 
train  him  in  the  way  he  should  go  and  come  and 
be.    But 

''Pudge,  little  Mary  and  her  mother  are  coming 
over  this  afternoon  to  pay  us  a  call  and  I  want  you 
to  be  very  nice  to  little  Mary." 

"All  right,"  said  Pudge  dutifully,  although  his 
eyes  turned  to  the  vacant  lot  where  the  fellows  would 
soon  be  playing. 

Little  Mary  arrived  in  good  time  and  was  handed 
over  to  Pudge.  He  strode  off  to  one  comer  of  the 
living  room  and  his  mother  had  a  qualm  of  misgiv- 
ing.   For  he  strode  a  manly,  swaggering  stride. 

The  ladies  were  chatting  together,  all  thought  of 
the  children  dismissed  from  their  minds,  when  an 
ear-piercing  blast  from  a  tin  horn  smote  their  ears. 
Pudge 's  mother  jumped  up  and  was  horrified  to  see 
her  son  standing  before  the  dainty  little  Mary,  his 
legs  wide  apart,  his  cheeks  blown  out  into  a  purple 
balloon,  his  eyes  popping,  as  he  blew  blast  after 
blast  into  the  rather  startled  face  of  his  guest. 

** Pudge,  Pudge,  I  wouldn't  blow  the  horn  in  the 
house,  dear." 

"All  right,"  said  Pudge  in  a  masterful  voice. 

His  troubled  mother,  now  completely  unnerved, 
seated  herself  and  resumed  the  conversation.  A 
series  of  shouts,  bumps,  and  muffled  sounds  of  fumi- 

62 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  63 

ture  swiftly  pushed  to  one  side  drew  her  once  more 
to  the  living  room.  Pudge  was  using  the  horn  as  a 
gun  and  was  hunting  little  Mary  from  chair  to  chair. 
She  was  warm  and  disheveled  but  otherwise  un- 
harmed. 

**  Pudge,  Httle  girls  do  not  like  to  be  chased  about. 
I'd  get  my  books  out  and  let  little  Mary  look  at  the 
pictures  for  a  time.    She  might  like  that." 

**0h,  there's  no  fun  in  pictures.  We'll  play 
pirates  and  I'll  save  her  from  the  crew,"  he  said 
eagerly. 

*'We  are  going  to  have  some  refreshments  soon. 
You'd  better  go  upstairs  and  wash  your  hands  and 
brush  your  hair  and  by  that  time  the  cream  and  cake 
will  be  ready  for  you, ' '  said  his  mother,  grasping  at 
a  straw. 

''All  right,"  said  Pudge,  and  marched  upstairs 
with  the  tread  of  a  grenadier. 

The  children  were  served  at  a  little  table  near  by 
their  mothers'.  Little  Mary  took  dainty  wee  nibbles 
of  her  cake  and  pecked  sedately  at  her  ice  cream. 

''Huh,  look  at  me,"  said  Pudge,  and  opening  his 
mouth  as  wide  as  his  ears  permitted  he  pushed  in 
the  whole  piece  of  cake.  It  was  a  close  fit  and  he 
used  his  fingers  to  pack  it  well. 

After  the  visitors  had  gone  his  mother  cried. 
"Pudge,  you  never  in  all  your  life  behaved  like  that. 
What  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

' '  I  tried  hard  to  entertain  your  company  and  now 
you  say  I'm  bad,"  complained  Pudge. 

What  would  you  expect  a  little  boy  to  do  before 
a  Httle  girl  except  show  off! 


ENTEETAININa  THE  CHILDREN 

An  uproar  came  from  the  children's  room. 
Bangs,  thumps,  then  wails.  The  door  flew  open  and 
Jean  Marie  stormed  out  in  full  retreat. 

*'I  don't  care,"  she  screamed  back  over  her 
shoulder.  * '  I  don 't  care  what  you  say !  I  won 't  do 
anything  you  say  just  because  you  say  so !  If  I  was 
a  boy  you'd  not  see  many  days  of  light.  I'd  make 
them  all  gray  for  you.  I'd  give  you  a  punch  in 
the  eye." 

A  derisive  laugh  from  the  enemy,  the  door  banged 
shut,  and  Jean  pounded  and  cried  until  her  mother 
came. 

**I  can't  imagine  what  is  the  trouble  with  the 
children,"  she  sighed.  "They  cannot  get  along  by 
themselves  a  single  minute.  I've  had  no  time  to 
plan  for  their  entertainment  to-day.  They've  only 
arrived  from  school  and  their  homecoming  took  so 
much  of  my  time  that  I  simply  couldn  't  find  the  time 
to  plan  for  their  amusement.     This  is  the  result. 

**My  children  ought  to  be  happy.  I  give  them 
everything.  I  do  everything  for  them.  But  they  are 
not  happy.    I  don't  understand  it." 

But  everybody  who  knew  her  knew  what  was  the 
trouble.  The  mother  did  exactly  what  she  said  she 
did — everything  for  the  children.  She  left  nothing 
for  the  children  to  do  for  themselves.  She  thought 
out  the  details  for  every  occasion. 

It  was  she  who  said  the  children  should  have  a 

64 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  65 

party,  never  waiting  until  they  asked  for  one.  It 
was  she  who  planned  the  games,  the  favors,  the 
menu.  It  was  she  who  selected  the  clothes  they  were 
to  wear,  down  to  the  last  button.  It  was  she  who 
presided  at  the  party  and  directed  the  ceremonies. 
The  children  were  passive.  They  allowed  their 
mother  to  do  just  what  she  said  she  had  done — 
entertain  them — because  they  had  no  choice  in  the 
matter.  After  years  of  this  sort  of  thing  they 
hadn't  a  particle  of  initiative  left.  And  they  were 
unhappy. 

Of  course  they  were  unhappy.  Children  are 
happy  only  when  they  have  something  to  interest 
them  and  something  to  do.  Action  is  life  and  the 
fullness  thereof  to  them.  Deprive  them  of  the  plan- 
ning and  the  doing  and  you  have  deadened  the  very 
lifespring  of  the  child's  mind. 

This  is  why  some  children  are  stupid  and  inert 
and  unresponsive  and  bored  while  other  children, 
especially  those  of  a  poorer  family,  are  alive  and 
alert  and  eager  to  try  the  new  things.  The  poorer 
children  have  had  the  chance  to  do  for  themselves, 
try  things  out  for  themselves,  experiment,  plan,  and 
make  shift  to  do  with  little.  They  have  the  wonder- 
ful privilege  of  using  their  brains. 

Too  much  of  anything  is  bad.  Too  much  help  for 
the  children  ends  in  helplessness  for  them  and  dis- 
appointment for  their  parents.  Let  the  children 
help  themselves.  Let  them  study  the  way  out  of 
their  little  difficulties.  Then  they  won't  need  to  be 
"entertained."  They  can  entertain  themselves  and 
be  happy  while  doing  it. 


THE  CHEERFUL  WORD 

Whenever  Benny  came  home  from  school  or  from 
running  an  errand  or  after  a  vacation  trip  mother 
would  look  at  him  with  a  smile  and  say:  ''Well, 
here 's  the  best  boy  in  the  town.  * '  And  Benny  would 
grin  and  say :    *  *  Hello. ' ' 

Mother  didn't  know  that  she  said  that  every  time 
the  boy  came  home  and  I  doubt  whether  the  boy 
ever  stopped  to  think  about  it.  They  just  said  their 
little  speech  each  time  and  thought  nothing  about  it. 

One  afternoon  mother  was  very  busy.  The  baby 
was  cross  and  the  work  was  behind.  She  was  sooth- 
ing the  child  and  stirring  a  pot  of  soup  that  insisted 
upon  boiling  over  or  sticking  fast  to  the  pot. 

Benny  came  in  from  school.  *'I'm  glad  you  got 
home  early,  Benny.  Do  put  your  books  away  and 
run  down  to  the  greengrocer's  and  find  out  why  he 
didn't  send  me  the  soup  greens.  Better  bring  them 
along  with  you,  and  stop  at  the  druggist 's  and  bring 
home  the  prescription  that's  there."  And  she 
turned  again  to  the  boiling  pot  and  the  fuming  baby. 

Benny  silently  put  away  his  books  and  slipped  out 
of  the  door.  He  had  all  he  could  do  to  keep  from 
crying.  ''She  didn't  say  it  to  me,"  he  half  sobbed 
as  he  raced  along.    ' '  She  didn  't  say  it  to  me. ' ' 

He  got  the  greens  and  the  medicine  and  delivered 
them  to  his  mother,  thinking  all  the  while :  "Maybe 
she'll  say  it  now." 

"That's  good.    Now  do  sit  down  and  see  if  you 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  67 

can  amuse  the  baby  while  I  get  about  the  house. 
He's  been  sick  all  day  and  I  couldn't  get  a  thing 
done." 

Benny  sat  down  beside  the  baby  and  dolefully 
tried  to  cheer  him  up.  The  baby  cried  the  harder. 
The  harder  the  baby  cried  the  more  sorrowful  Benny 
became.  He  had  all  he  could  do  to  keep  his  own 
tears  from  mingling  with  the  baby's. 

*'Why,  Benny,  what's  the  matter  with  you?  You 
don't  seem  to  be  a  bit  of  use  this  afternoon." 

''She  didn't  say  it  to  me  yet,"  thought  Benny. 
' '  She  doesn  't  love  me  any  more.  I  don 't  know  what 
I  did.  Maybe  it's  the  baby.  She  likes  him  because 
he's  the  littlest." 

That  evening  Benny  sat  silent  and  downcast.  He 
ate  scarcely  any  supper.  His  mother  became 
anxious.  "I  believe  that  the  child  must  be  coming 
down  with  some  sickness.  I'm  going  to  put  him 
right  to  bed  and  if  he  is  no  better  in  the  morning 
I'll  send  for  Dr.  Crump." 

As  she  settled  Benny  in  bed  she  said:  "Where  do 
you  feel  bad,  son?    Tell  me,  so  I  can  help  you." 

' '  Oh,  it 's  inside,  mother, ' '  he  sobbed.  * '  It 's  inside 
and  you  can't  get  at  it.  It  hurts  me  because  you 
didn't  say  it  to  me." 

Then  the  story  came  out.  ''Well,  Benny,  I  guess 
I  didn't  say  it  because  I  was  thinking  it  so  hard," 
smiled  mother.  "But  I'll  say  it  out  loud  next  time 
and  the  best  boy  in  the  town  will  feel  better." 

And  Benny  snuggled  into  the  covers  well  content. 
She  had  said  it.  Don 't  ever  forget  to  say  "  it "  when 
he  comes  in. 


TAD'S  HEADACHE 

Tad  handed  mother  his  weekly  report  sheet.  In 
the  second  year  one  gets  a  report  sheet  only  if  one 
is  failing. 

Tad 's  sheet  said  that  he  had  fallen  below  standard 
in  tables.  It  said  more.  The  line  written  at  the 
bottom  in  red  ink  said  that  if  Tad  didn't  improve 
there  was  slight  hope  for  his  promotion.  Tables 
were  important. 

' '  Tad,  how  in  the  world  did  you  came  to  get  such 
a  bad  mark  in  tables!" 

**The  teacher  gave  it  to  me,"  said  Tad,  the 
aggrieved,  his  attention  riveted  on  the  antics  of  two 
dogs  which  were  playing  on  the  grass  across  the 
way. 

''Tad,  look  here.  Don't  tell  me  anything  so  silly. 
Answer  my  question." 

"How  did  I  get  it!" 

"Yes.  Why  can't  you  get  a  better  rating  on  the 
simple  little  tables  that  you  have  to  do  in  your 
class?" 

"You  wouldn't  think  they  were  so  simple  if  you 
had  to  answer  them  quick  as  she  says  'em.  Hardly 
any  one  answers  them  right.  Billy  got  a  failure 
too.    He  never  gets  them  right.    He " 

"Stop  right  there.  It's  you  I'm  talking  about. 
You  're  not  trying  to  do  your  tables.  Now,  I  'm  going 
to  hear  them  every  night  from  now  until  next  Fri- 
day, and  if  you  don't  get  a  better  mark  by  then, 

68 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  69 

I'm  going  to  punish  you.  Sit  right  down  now  and 
begin." 

The  next  Friday  rolled  around  swiftly.  You 
know  there  are  only  four  days  between  Friday  and 
Friday  when  you  go  to  school.  Tad's  mother  had 
forgotten  all  about  the  tables  and  so  had  Tad,  as 
much  as  the  teacher  would  permit. 

Now  she  looked  down  the  rows  and  said,  **I'll 
hear  the  tables." 

''Seven  and  two!" 

''Eleven,"  said  Tad. 

The  class  gasped. 

"Five  and  nine?"  Tad  did  not  dare  to  venture. 
The  teacher's  eyes  hardened  and  she  made  a  little 
mark  on  the  pad  beside  her. 

At  noon  Tad  said  to  his  mother,  '  *  I  have  a  norf  ul 
headache.    It  aches  all  over." 

' '  What  ?  How  long  have  you  had  it  ?  Where  does 
it  hurt  you?    Why  didn't  you  come  home?" 

"It  hurt  me  all  morning,  but  I  stayed  until  noon," 
said  the  patient  sufferer. 

Mother  put  him  to  bed,  drew  down  the  shades,  and 
reached  for  a  dark  brown  bottle  that  stood  on  the 
medicine  shelf.  Tad  knew  that  bottle.  Mother  came 
towards  him  shaking  it  and  saying,  "I'll  give  you  a 
good  dose  of  physic  and  then  if  you're  no  better  I'll 
call  Dr.  Wise." 

Tad  gulped,  then  he  murmured,  "Mother,  if  you 
hadn  't  said  you  'd  punish  me  for  having  a  poor  mark 
in  arithmetic  to-day  I  wouldn't  have  had  the  bad 
headache." 

"Oh!"  said  mother,  setting  down  the  medicine 
bottle  and  gazing  at  her  son,  meekly  snuggled  in  the 
bedclothes.    "Oh!" 

And  Tad  learned  his  tables. 


THE  CROW  AGE 

Did  you  ever  visit  a  crow's  nest?  Perhaps  not, 
because  they  are  usually  rather  high  and  difficult  to 
reach.  But  if  you  have  had  a  chance  to  look  at  the 
inside  of  one  you  very  likely  found  a  collection  of 
art  objects  there.  A  piece  of  bright-colored  glass,  a 
thimble,  a  piece  of  red  string,  a  bit  of  a  bead  neck- 
lace, a  scrap  of  rag.    Crows  are  collectors. 

When  a  child  begins  to  pick  up  odds  and  ends  and 
store  them  away  he  has  arrived  at  the  **crow  age." 
He  has  begun  to  follow  his  instinct  for  collecting, 
classifying,  valuing  things  about  him.  Anything 
will  do  to  start  him.  Something  about  its  color  or 
shape  or  association  attracts  him,  and  he  gathers 
it  to  him. 

He  likes  to  have  a  safe  place  for  his  collections, 
just  as  the  crow  does.  He  cannot  have  a  nest  on  the 
top  of  an  eighty-foot  pine,  but  he  can  have  a  box  or 
a  closet  with  a  lock  and  a  key. 

You  think  his  heap  of  colored  papers,  cigar  bands, 
pebbles,  strings,  marbles,  nails,  picture  cards,  coins, 
are  so  much  litter  and  rubbish.  You  wish  he 
wouldn't  bring  them  into  the  house,  and  you  think 
giving  him  a  closet  or  a  box  with  a  key  to  safeguard 
his  treasures  is  too  much. 

This  instinct  to  collect  is  the  germ  of  his  respon- 
sibility towards  his  family.  He  must  get  and  keep 
so  that  others,  later  on,  may  have  what  they  will 
need.    If  he  does  not  follow  this  instinct  and  do  his 

70 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  71 

hoarding  and  sorting  and  valuing,  he  will  lose  that 
very  valuable  phase  of  his  growth.  To  be  sure,  he 
has  no  appreciation  of  this.  It  is  fun  for  him.  But 
his  heart  is  in  his  treasure. 

As  the  crow  age  passes  and  he  loses  interest  in 
his  collections,  you  will  find  them  lying  dejectedly  in 
some  corner  or  other.  You  will  want  to  throw  them 
out.  Ask  him  first  if  he  is  through  with  them.  If  he 
says  *'No,"  and  gathers  them  up  once  more,  let  him 
alone.    He  has  not  yet  outgrown  them. 

Sometimes  the  child  will  cease  to  collect  alto- 
gether, but  there  are  children  who  carry  the  interest 
along  with  them  into  and  through  adolescence. 
They  collect  stamps  or  coins  and  make  a  thorough 
hobby  of  it.  From  this  group  the  real  collectors 
grow,  but  their  number  is  small  compared  to  the 
great  group  of  children  who  pass  through  the  '*crow 
age". 

Then  save  a  soft  spot  in  your  heart  for  his 
*  *  messes ' '.  They  look  very  untidy  and  meaningless 
to  you  unless  you  remember  your  own  childhood. 
To  him  they  are  treasures  and  very  valuable.  He 
will  love  you  for  that  little  bit  of  understanding  in 
the  days  when  he  looks  back  upon  his  childhood  and 
remembers  your  loving  kindness  to  a  little  boy  who 
was  doing  his  best  to  grow  up. 


SELF-CONFIDENCE 

It  makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world  whether 
you  say,  ^'Katherine,  the  table  is  set  crudely,"  or 
whether  you  say,  "Katherine,  your  table  is  set 
crudely. ' ' 

Now,  of  course,  they  mean  the  same  thing  in  the 
end.  They  mean  that  Katherine  failed  to  set  the 
table  as  it  should  have  been  set.  But  when  you  want 
Katherine  to  feel  a  sense  of  personal  failure  you 
say  "your  table,"  and  when  you  want  to  make  her 
feel  that  the  table  might  be  set  better  and  you  do 
not  want  her  to  feel  personally  responsible  for  the 
failure,  you  say  "the  table." 

There  are  some  children  who  are  so  sensitive  that 
the  least  criticism  makes  them  self-conscious.  They 
brood  over  the  failure  and  lay  the  foundation  for 
future  failures.  They  are  so  afraid  to  commit  some 
blunder  that  they  shrink  into  the  background  and 
come  out  only  when  dragged  out. 

Fear  of  criticism  kills  all  their  initiative.  They 
remain  silent,  suffering  onlookers,  while  their  more 
callous  companions  go  on  from  success  to  success. 

For  the  sensitive  children  the  indirect  criticism 
is  the  right  one.  In  speaking  to  them,  try  always  to 
direct  their  attention  from  themselves  to  the  thing 
they  are  to  do  or  have  done.  Their  approach  to 
full  intercourse  with  people,  as  well  as  with  things, 
must  be  gentle  and  very  gradual.  They  must  lay  a 
habit  of  success  to  establish  confidence. 

72 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  73 

But  for  the  conceited  child  one  need  have  no  such 
scruples.  One  says:  ''Your  work  is  not  well  done. 
It  is  careless  and  shows  you  are  thinking  more  about 
getting  something  done  than  you  are  about  how  you 
are  doing  it.    It  must  be  done  again.'* 

For  there  are  children  who  strut.  They  do  some 
simple  little  everyday  thing  and  demand  the  praise 
and  admiration  of  everybody  in  the  room  for  it. 
"Look  at  what  I  have  done.  Look  at  me.  Let  me 
show  you  how  to  do  it.  Mine  is  better  than  any 
one's.  The  teacher  says  I'm  the  best  pupil  in  the 
class.'* 

When  one  meets  a  child  who  is  inclined  to  be  a 
braggart  the  best  thing  to  do  is  quietly  to  assign 
him  a  good  stiff  lesson  and  let  him  flounder  through 
as  best  he  may.  A  little  failure  now  and  then  will 
instil  a  proper  humility  and  compel  him  to  a  healthy 
effort. 

When  a  child  ceases  to  make  an  effort  he  ceases 
to  grow,  and  children  are  very  much  like  grown-ups 
in  this,  that  they  will  take  all  the  praise  for  an 
achievement  that  is  offered  them  and  pose  as  having 
arrived  as  soon  as  possible. 

It  is  a  nice  matter  so  to  adjust  a  child's  work  and 
effort  that  the  shy  child  will  not  be  submerged  in  an 
idea  of  failure  and  the  over-confident  child  will  not 
strut  and  cease  to  make  any  effort  to  grow.  Chil- 
dren must  reach  in  order  that  they  may  grasp. 


WHY  THE  RUSH? 

Why  the  rush?  Can't  you  stop  a  minute  and  take 
breath — look  where  you  are  going  with  these  chil- 
dren? What's  the  use  of  this  mad  race  if  you  reach 
the  goal  only  to  find  that  you  have  left  the  child 
behind? 

The  baby  in  his  bath  takes  the  washrag  and  dabs 
clumsily  at  his  face.  He  is  trying  to  wash  his  own 
face.  But  his  mother  cannot  wait  for  him.  His 
experiment  takes  too  much  time.  Her  morning's 
work  is  still  ahead  of  her.  It  would  never  do  at  all 
if  the  house  was  not  in  order  and  the  shopping  done 
by  eleven.  So  she  takes  the  washrag  away  and  hur- 
ries ahead. 

Mother  gets  her  job  done,  but  the  baby  doesn't  get 
a  chance  to  get  his  done.  Of  course,  it  is  very  im- 
portant that  mother's  work  be  well  done  and 
quickly.  But  my  interest  is  tied  up  with  that  of  the 
baby.  When  is  he  to  get  a  chance  to  get  his  done? 
Maybe  a  little  waiting,  five  minutes  added  to  his 
bath  time  daily,  would  make  him  so  independent  that 
soon  the  five  minutes  could  be  taken  from  his  bath 
time.    I've  known  that  to  happen. 

It  seems  too  bad  that  the  child  should  be  caught 
up  in  the  rush  of  the  daily  grind.  He  tries  to  dis- 
cover what  the  things  going  on  around  him  are  all 
about.  He  investigates,  experiments,  and  he  would 
like  to  think,  but  he  can't.    There's  no  time. 

He  takes  up  a  broom  to  see  how  it  works.    He 

74 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  75 

makes  a  few  ineffectual  swings  with  it  and  is  settling 
down  to  work  in  earnest  when  somebody  discovers 
him  and  takes  the  broom  away. 

''Come,  now.  I'm  in  a  hurry.  I  can't  have  you 
messing  things  up  just  after  they've  been  put  in 
order. ' ' 

He  goes  to  school.  All  sorts  of  strange  experi- 
ences are  presented  to  him.  He  would  like  to  feel 
his  way  among  them,  try  them  out,  think  about  them. 
But  he  can't.  There's  no  time.  He  gets  well  started 
on  a  lesson  when  the  bell  rings  and  the  teacher  stops 
him. 

Another  lesson  comes  along  and  he  is  asked  a 
question.  He  has  not  expected  it  just  that  way  and 
he  hesitates,  he  must  gather  his  thoughts. 

** Can't  wait  for  you.  You're  too  slow.  You 
should  have  prepared  your  lesson.    Next." 

The  teacher  and  the  mother  will  both  say:  ''But 
I  have  no  time  for  such  things.  It  is  all  very  well 
for  you  to  say  I  should  wait  while  he  tries  to  place 
things.    But  when  will  I  get  my  work  done?" 

Well,  what  is  your  work?  And  do  you  get  it 
"done"?  Haste  makes  waste,  you  know,  and  I  am 
convinced  that  nowhere  is  it  so  wasteful  as  in  child 
training.  I  believe  it  is  better  to  teach  a  child  what 
he  wants  to  know  at  the  time  when  he  wants  to  know 
it.  I  believe  that  teaching  him  in  that  light  he 
will  get  on  faster  and  so  will  you. 

What  good  will  it  do  you  to  reach  the  end  of  the 
journey,  panting  and  breathless,  only  to  find  that 
you  have  lost  the  child  on  the  way? 


BREAK,  BREAK,  BREAK 

A  sharp  crash  and  the  tinkle  of  falling  china 
started  mother  toward  the  kitchen.  She  came  back 
looking  tired  and  discouraged. 

''What  do  you  suppose  he  has  done  now?  Knocked 
over  a  tower  of  little  Canton  china  bowls  that  the 
maid  had  piled  up  to  carry  into  the  pantry.  Don't 
ask  me  how  he  did  it.    I  don't  know.*' 

''Are  they  broken?" 

' '  Might  as  well  be.  There  were  nine  bowls  in  the 
pile  and  every  one  of  them  is  chipped,  or  worse. 
I  can't  use  them  on  the  table  again.  And  china  is  so 
high  now,  too." 

"But  what  was  he  doing  out  there?" 

' '  Oh,  helping ! ' '  sighed  his  mother  wearily.  ' '  Last 
month  he  drove  the  back  of  a  chair  through  the  china 
closet,  and  that  cost  me  fifteen  dollars. 

"When  Mrs.  Graves  was  in  last  week  collecting 
for  the  Aid  Society  he  picked  up  her  old  carpet  bag 
with  such  a  yank  that  its  handles  pulled  out  and  the 
contents  of  the  bag  flew  all  over  the  place.  She  was 
furious. 

"There  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  send  him 
to  get  my  bag  for  her  and  send  him  with  hers  to 
have  it  mended.    He  is  a  calamity,  really.*' 

"How  old  is  he?" 

"Twelve." 

"Just  at  the  breaking  stage.  He'll  get  over  it 
soon.    They're  all  clumsy  at  that  stage." 

76 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  77 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!  Are  all  boys  breakers?  I 
won't  have  a  whole  stick  in  the  house  if  this  keeps 
on.    Sometimes  I  wish  he  had  been  a  girl." 

** Didn't  you  ever  break  anything  when  you  were 
a  girl?" 

The  clumsy  lad's  mother  laughed.  "I  did,  and 
more  than  once.  But  the  last  thing  I  broke  I  remem- 
ber yet.  I  washed  the  glass  water  pitcher.  Whether 
or  not  the  water  was  too  hot  I  don't  know,  but  the 
pitcher  split  straight  down  the  middle,  into  two  even 
pieces.  I  was  so  frightened  that  I  didn't  know  what 
to  do,  so  I  stood  there  fitting  the  two  pieces  together. 
They  stood  up  nicely  and  you  couldn't  tell  that  the 
pitcher  was  broken. 

"Just  then  the  minister  called  and  mother  sent 
out  for  a  pitcher  of  cold  water.  I  didn't  dare  pick 
up  the  pitcher,  I  did  not  dare  tell  I  broke  it ;  I  didn  't 
move  until  my  mother  came  out  to  see  why  I  hadn't 
come  with  the  water. 

* '  Then  I  told  her  and  said  maybe  she  could  tie  the 
pieces  together.  '  Silly, '  she  said.  '  There  are  worse 
things  than  broken  pitchers.' 

"Guess  I'd  better  go  and  see  what  happened  to 
the  boy.    He  seemed  rather  downhearted." 


HANDKERCHIEFS 

During  spring  and  fall  all  children  have  the 
** snuffles."  Few  of  them  have  handkerchiefs.  The 
two  facts  seem  to  be  closely  related. 

A  child  ought  to  be  taught  to  carry  a  clean  hand- 
kerchief in  his  pocket  and  use  it.  Because  he 
doesn't,  he  catches  a  cold  and  passes  it  on  to  his 
neighbors,  who  do  their  part  in  spreading  it.  Had 
he  kept  his  nose  and  throat  free  and  clear  he  might 
have  escaped.  Had  he  used  his  handkerchief  when 
he  coughed  or  sneezed  the  others  might  have  been 
spared. 

I  wish  children  could  have  some  sort  of  handker- 
chief that  could  be  burned  after  using.  But  that 
doesn't  seem  practicable  just  now.  Perhaps  some 
clever  mother  or  nurse  will  think  out  a  way  some 
day.  Until  then  children  will  have  to  be  taught  the 
proper  use  and  care  of  the  present-day  handker- 
chief. 

The  handkerchief  must  be  clean  to  start  with. 

It  should  be  held  over  the  mouth  for  a  cough  or 
sneeze. 

It  must  be  kept  in  the  pocket  and  used  only  for 
the  purposes  for  which  it  is  intended.  One  must  not 
wipe  off  one's  desk  with  it.  Neither  should  one 
•wipe  out  the  ink  well  with  it  or  dry  the  water  color 
pan  with  it.    Nor  lend  it  to  one's  neighbor. 

One  must  not  borrow  or  lend  a  handkerchief  that 
has  been  used. 

78 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  79 

Handkerchiefs  should  not  be  picked  up  from  the 
playground  or  the  street.  They  do  not  come  under 
the  head  of  lost  articles.  Let  the  sweeper  brush 
them  into  his  bin  and  bum  them. 

Handkerchiefs,  or  the  lack  of  them,  are  respon- 
sible for  much  of  the  difficulty  we  have  in  combating 
the  spread  of  infectious  and  contagious  diseases 
among  school  children.  A  child  coming  down  with 
whooping  cough  has  a  hard  bronchial  cough.  No 
one  knows  it  is  whooping  cough  until  he  actually 
whoops,  which  is  often  ten  days  after  he  has  begun 
to  cough.  All  that  time  he  has  coughed  out  his 
troublesome  disorder.  Unless  he  used  his  handker- 
chief to  cover  his  mouth  when  he  coughed  he  has 
spread  his  disease  to  a  whole  group  of  unsuspecting 
children. 

The  child  who  is  on  his  way  to  bed  with  the  grippe 
coughs  and  sneezes  industriously.  He  forgets  to  use 
his  handkerchief  and  when  called  on  to  do  so  gen- 
erally discovers  that  he  has  left  it  at  home. 

In  the  morning,  when  the  child  is  starting  away 
for  school,  along  with  your  usual  questions  about 
ears  and  nails  and  hair  and  luncheon  put  this  one : 
''Have  you  clean  handkerchiefs  in  each  pocket? 
Show  them  to  me. ' ' 

And  when  he  comes  in  in  the  afternoon  say*: 
''Have  you  your  handkerchiefs?  Show  them  to  me. 
Now  put  them  in  the  handkerchief  basket  and  get 
fresh  ones." 

If  you  do  this,  he  won't  have  so  much  trouble  with 
his  eyes  and  his  nose  and  his  throat  this  year. 


THOU  SHALT  LAUGH 

All  of  you  who  have  to  do  with  children,  fathers, 
and  mothers,  and  aunts,  and  uncles,  and  teachers, 
and  those  who  live  in  institutions.  Thou  shall  laugh. 
If  you  don 't,  you  will  have  plenty  to  cry  over. 

To  scold  and  lecture,  to  admonish  and  correct  day 
in,  day  out,  with  never  a  ray  of  humor  to  lighten 
things,  is  to  end  in  futility  and  hopelessness.  A  good 
laugh  clears  the  atmosphere. 

It  relieves  the  children,  who  half  the  time  do  not 
know  what  you  are  driving  at.  They  have  a  con- 
fused sense  of  trouble  and  discomfort.  They  wish 
you  would  stop  talking  and  let  them  rest.  Laugh 
with  them,  or  even  at  them,  and  they  feel  things  are 
not  in  such  a  bad  way  after  all  and  they  will  try  not 
to  do  the  thing  that  seemed  out  of  place.  Children's 
lapses  are  not  to  be  taken  too  seriously. 

The  twins  were  sitting  on  the  floor  cutting  out 
pictures.  Their  aunt  sat  near  by,  keeping  an  eye  on 
them.  Mother  came  into  the  room  dressed  for  the 
street. 

**I'm  going  down  town  to  do  the  marketing.  I'll 
be  back  in  good  time  for  luncheon.  Anything  you 
want?"  she  said  in  the  undertone. 

Ealph  caught  "going."  He  jumped  up  and 
bawled,  "I  want  to  go,  too."  He  caught  hold  of  his 
mother's  skirts  and  stamped  and  begged,  "No,  no! 
Take  me,  too  I '  * 

"Shame!"  said  his  aunt.    "Let  go  this  instant. 

80 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  81 

Of  course,  you  can't  go.  Sit  in  that  chair  and  don't 
say  another  word."  And  she  bounced  him  into  his 
chair. 

''That's  no  way  for  a  big  boy  like  you  to  behave. 
Crying  and  fighting  because  your  mother  is  going 
down  the  street.    Shame  on  you." 

Then  she  thought  she  would  better  strengthen  the 
moral  backbone  of  the  other  child,  who  sat  looking 
solemnly  on.  She  turned  towards  him  and  said, 
''Don's  a  good  boy."    Don's  chest  rose  in  pride. 

"Don  wouldn't  cry  because  his  mother  was  going 
away."    Don's  chest  rose  higher. 

"Stand  up,  Don,  and  show  your  brother  what  a 
fine  little  man  looks  like."  Don  rose,  swelled  up, 
fairly  exuding  virtue. 

"Why,"  auntie  went  on  in  a  burst  of  enthusiasm 
for  such  righteousness,  "you  wouldn't  cry  even  if 
your  mother  went  to  Europe,  would  you,  Don?" 

"No,"  said  Don,  rising  to  the  occasion;  "I'd  be 
glad." 

His  mother  broke  into  hearty  laughter  and  his 
rather  crestfallen  aunt  joinfed  in.  The  twins  smiled 
doubtfully  and  returned  to  their  cutting.  For  them 
the  sun  was  shining.  Things  couldn't  be  so  bad 
when  mother  laughed  like  that. 


HER  IMAGINATION 

A  mother  came  in  to  see  me  the  other  day.  She 
seemed  to  be  in  great  trouble. 

"I  have  come  to  you  for  help.  I'm  terribly  wor- 
ried about  Marjorie.  She  is  seven-going-on-eight 
now,  and  she  has  begun  telling  the  most  awful  fibs. 

"I'm  afraid  to  ask  her  a  question  for  fear  she  will 
say  'No,'  when  it  should  be  *Yes.'  Last  week  she 
came  home  and  told  me  that  her  teacher  had  said  I 
was  to  dress  her  for  company.  I  dressed  her  in  her 
best  clothes. 

''When  she  came  home  in  the  afternoon  she  told 
me  all  about  the  company  and  the  party  and  the 
praise  her  teacher  and  the  visitors  had  given  her. 

''That  evening  the  teacher  met  me.  She  came 
forward  with  smiles  and  her  hands  outstretched. 
'My  dear,  I'm  so  glad  for  you.'  " 

"I  was  amazed,  but  felt  my  way  through  the  situa- 
tion as  carefully  as  I  could.  Marjorie  had  told  her 
that  my  mother  had  come  unexpectedly  from  the 
West,  and  that  was  why  she  had  on  her  best  clothes. 

"I  asked  Marjorie  why  she  told  such  a  story,  and 
she  could  only  say  that  she  wanted  to  be  dressed  up 
and  that  I  would  not  allow  it  unless  there  was  a  very 
good  reason.    Now,  what  is  to  be  done?" 

"It  sounds  bad,  of  course.  I  don't  wonder  that 
you  are  troubled.  But  Marjorie  has  a  lot  of  imag- 
ination and  she  is  using  it.  It  is  a  new  tool  and  she 
is  making  mistakes.    She  hasn't  the  right  idea  yet. 

82 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  83 

**Tlie  best  way  to  deal  with  that  is  to  say:  *Now 
that  is  the  way  you  would  like  it  to  be.  'Think  it 
over.  When  you  are  big  and  wise  you  may  be  able 
to  make  things  come  the  way  you  would  like  them  to. 
Just  now  you  are  too  little.  Tell  it  the  way  it  really 
was.* 

'  *  Try  to  catch  and  keep  her  confidence.  Check  up 
her  stories.  If  you  can  get  her  to  classify  them  into 
the  real  story  and  the  dream  story,  you  will  have 
taught  her  the  distinction  you  want  her  to  make. 

''Start  her  writing  a  book  of  stories.  Don't  try 
to  cultivate  all  the  imagination  out  of  her.  Teach 
her  that  a  story  is  a  dream — that  the  truth  is  the 
wideawake  thing.  She  will  get  it  in  the  end,  never 
fear. 

"Telling  the  truth  is  hard  for  most  of  us.  You 
and  I  know  people  fifty  years  old  who  have  not 
learned  to  do  it  yet.    There's  hope  for  Marjorie." 


WHO  IS  LAZY*? 

A  child  has  the  right  to  his  training.  A  great 
many  times  he  fails  to  get  it  because  we  who  are 
responsible  for  giving  it  to  him  are  too  lazy  to  exert 
ourselves  to  do  the  necessary  work. 

"Peter,  I  want  you  to  go  to  the  store  and  get  me 
a  loaf  of  bread,  and  I  want  you  to  come  right  back. 
Now,  mind  you,  don't  stop  a  minute  on  the  way." 

Peter  starts  out  and  is  gone  a  long  time.  ''Dear 
me,"  sighs  his  mother;  *'I  wonder  if  that  child  will 
ever  learn  to  do  an  errand  promptly. ' ' 

He  never  will  until  his  mother  makes  him  under- 
stand that  it  is  important  that  Peter  do  his  errands 
promptly.  When  Peter  finally  returns  and  lays  the 
loaf  down,  mother  is  busy  and  cannot  bother  with 
him. 

She  knows  she  should  talk  to  him  and  impress 
him  with  his  neglect,  but  there  is  company  in  the 
house  and  she  does  not  Kke  to  have  them  know  that 
Peter  is  dilatory. 

For  one  reason  or  another  Peter  gets  off  that  time 
and  most  of  the  other  times.  You  see  the  baby  is 
asleep,  and  if  Peter  is  sent  to  his  room  for  an  hour's 
meditation  on  his  erring  ways  he  will  raise  such  a 
howl  that  he  will  waken  the  baby.    So  it  goes. 

' '  Peter,  you  must  leave  your  room  in  order  in  the 
morning.  I  cannot  pick  up  all  those  things  after 
you." 

Peter  tidies  his  room  the  next  morning,  but  not 

84 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  85 

again  until  his  mother  gets  out  of  patience.  It  would 
be  troublesome  to  stop  work  just  to  go  and  inspect 
Peter's  room  and  call  him  to  account  for  the  dis- 
order of  it.  But  only  the  day-by-day  follow-up  will 
ever  teach  him  to  be  tidy.  And  he  should  be  taught 
to  be  orderly  and  to  be  thoughtful  of  other  people. 

Peter  is  hke  all  the  rest  of  us.  He  dislikes  the 
restrictions  of  living.  But  he  has  to  learn  them. 
The  earlier  he  learns  them,  the  better  for  him. 

Then  start  in  when  he  is  little  and  keep  hammer- 
ing at  the  good  habits  that  he  ought  to  be  forming. 
By  and  by  they  will  become  part  of  him,  and  he  will 
follow  them  just  as  easily  as  he  now  does  the  habits 
that  so  annoy  you. 

It  takes  years  of  hard  and  persistent  work  to  plant 
a  habit.  Teachers  and  parents  should  lay  aside 
their  own  pleasures  and  take  on  the  task  of  checking 
up  the  child's  shortcomings. 

To  form  a  habit  one  must  do  the  thing  every  day. 
Never  skip  a  day.  One  of  the  ways  to  do  this  is  to 
try  to  get  the  habit  of  making  the  children  form 
good  habits.  It  will  strengthen  your  resolve  if  you 
tell  the  neighbors  that  you  are  going  to  do  it,  and 
your  pride  will  keep  you  at  it.  You  will  hate  to  have 
them  laugh  at  you  for  failing. 


HANDS  OFF 

Isn't  it  strange  that  grown  people  will  interrupt 
a  child's  work,  take  it  out  of  his  hands,  stop  it  al- 
together, and  think  that  the  child  is  stupid  and 
perverse  when  he  objects'? 

A  little  child  sat  on  the  beach  filling  her  pail  with 
sand.  The  spade  was  very  small  and  her  hands  very- 
wabbly  and  little  of  each  spadeful  got  into  the  pail. 

A  kind  lady  watched  her  efforts  for  a  time  and 
then  went  to  her  assistance.  She  took  the  pail, 
scooped  it  full  of  sand  at  one  swoop,  and  handed 
it  to  the  little  girl.    The  result  amazed  her. 

For  an  instant  the  child  gazed  speechless.  Then 
she  yelled  in  anger,  threw  her  wee  shovel  at  her  kind 
friend,  kicked  the  pail  over  and  threw  herself  on  the 
sand  and  cried  as  though  her  heart  was  broken. 

* '  My,  what  a  bad  child !  What  an  awful  temper ! 
She  needs  a  good  trimming  and  she  would  get  it  if 
she  was  mine." 

She  had  meant  to  help  the  little  girl  and  couldn't 
understand  that  she  had  not  helped  but  had  inter- 
fered with  the  child's  work.  The  little  one  was  hav- 
ing a  joyful  time  doing  the  thing  she  wanted  to  do. 
It  was  the  doing,  the  working,  that  she  wanted,  not 
the  pailful  of  sand.  She  had  no  idea  that  she  was 
an  object  for  help  and  sympathy.    She  wasn't. 

A  boy  sat  happily  fitting  a  pair  of  old  wheels  on  a 
soap  box,  trying  to  make  a  wagon.  Every  so  often 
he  would  appear  satisfied,  push,  pull,  and  carry  the 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  87 

contraption  to  the  sidewalk  and  try  to  make  it  run. 
Then  back  to  the  porch  to  tinker  some  more. 

His  aunt  saw  the  ramshackle  cart  and  said:  **I'll 
send  him  a  new  wagon ;  put  it  in  place  of  the  old  one 
and  throw  that  awful  old  thing  out. ' ' 

The  new  wagon  was  placed  in  the  corner  and  the 
old  one  relegated  to  the  back  of  the  shed.  The  lad 
went  for  his  wagon  and  found  the  new  shiny  one. 

''Mother,  mother,  where  is  my  old  wagon? 
Thanks  for  the  new  one,  but  where  is  the  old  one  f ' ' 

"What  do  you  want  of  the  old  one?  Isn't  the  new 
one  all  right?" 

''Fine.  It's  all  right.  But,  mother,  you  didn't 
throw  away  my  old  one  ? ' ' 

"But  why  do  you  want  that  old  one  when  you  have 
such  a  good  one  ? ' ' 

"The  new  one  doesn't  need  anything  done  to  it 
and  I  want  to  fix  the  old  one.  It  always  needs  some- 
thing done  to  it.  You  didn't  throw  it  away, 
mother?" 

"You'll  find  it  out  in  the  shed,  son.  Of  course, 
I  wouldn't  throw  your  wagon  away." 

And  the  little  chap  dragged  his  treasure  to  the 
porch  and  began  tinkering  it  lovingly. 


LEAVE   THEM  ALONE  I 

A  little  boy,  a  poem  of  a  little  boy,  trotted  down 
the  street  ahead  of  his  mother.  He  had  soft  golden 
brown  hair,  with  a  little  rippling  wave  that  made 
lurking  places  for  the  sunbeams  that  played  in  it. 
His  great  brown  eyes  looked  out  solemnly  from 
under  brows  as  delicately  penciled  as  the  lines  of 
an  iris  petal.  He  was  modeled  like  a  statue  of 
MacMonnies  and  dressed  like  the  only  child  of  fond 
American  parents. 

A  friend  of  his  mother 's  came  up  the  walk  towards 
him.  She  swooped  down  upon  the  child  as  an  eagle 
swoops  upon  an  unconscious  birdling. 

**0h,  you  darling  baby  thing!"  (smack,  smack). 
"You  perfect  love"  (a  crushing  squeeze).  "Haven't 
you  a  kiss  for  me  ? ' ' 

"Go  'way,"  said  the  child,  backing  off  and  wiping 
his  face.  "Go 'way.  Stop  pawin' me.  Buyy'use'f 
a  Teddy  bear." 

His  embarrassed  mother  hurried  to  the  rescue. 
' '  This  lady  is  mother 's  friend.  Don 't  you  remember 
the  pretty  bunny  she  sent  you  last  Easter?" 

The  youngster  scowled  and  retreated  behind  his 
mother.  "Please  excuse  him.  He  sees  so  few 
people.  I'll  have  to  take  him  out  among  people 
more,"  said  mother,  desperately  trying  to  say  some- 
thing sensible. 

"Oh,  I  understand  children!  I  love  them.  And 
he  is  such  a  perfect  love  of  a  child.    Do  bring  him 

88 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  89 

to  see  me.  I  want  to  take  his  picture.  I  collect 
them.    Children  are  my  hobby,  you  know.  * ' 

Not  until  the  woman  was  well  on  her  way  would 
the  child  move  from  behind  his  mother.  "You  were 
very  rude,  dear.  You  should  not  have  said  that  to 
the  lady.    She  meant  to  be  kind  to  you." 

**I  don't  like  her  to  be  kind  to  me,"  he  snuffled. 
''I  got  feelings  and  I  don't  like  her  to — to — ^to — 
She  pitches  me  round  like  Carol  does  her  Teddy. 
I  don 't  like  her  to." 

And  she  oughtn't  to.  Children  have  rights  and 
feelings.  They  ought  to  be  respected.  No  stranger, 
and  most  family  friends  are  strangers  to  the  chil- 
dren, has  a  right  to  snatch  them  up  and  fondle  them 
and  smother  them  with  kisses  and  fulsome  praise. 

Children  do  not  like  it.  They  are  seldom  in  the 
mood  for  it.  They  are  thinking,  planning,  dream- 
ing, working  or  playing,  and  some  grown  up  person 
breaks  rudely  in  upon  their  privacy.  They  resent 
the  intrusion,  the  interruption,  and  the  affront  quite 
as  keenly  as  you  would. 

Let  your  friends  understand  that  you  agree  with 
the  children;  that  you  respect  a  child's  personality, 
and  you  hope  that  they  will  do  so.  Let  them  under- 
stand that  you  do  not  want  your  children  kissed 
and  fondled  like  *  *  Teddy. ' '  If  they  are  real  friends, 
they  will  understand.  If  they  are  not,  it  won't 
matter. 


HIS  HOUE 

Every  child  is  entitled  to  one  happy,  care-free 
hour  every  day.  We,  in  our  anxiety  to  surround 
him  with  every  safeguard,  inspire  him  to  greater 
effort,  and  lead  him  into  habits  of  industry  and 
righteousness,  are  likely  to  leave  him  no  time  for 
leisure. 

That  is  a  great  mistake.  Provide  for  his  hour  of 
freedom  and  let  him  do  as  he  likes.  Even  when  he 
does  things  that  you  wish  he  wouldn't.    Let  him. 

He  chooses  to  go  out  on  the  lot  and  play  with  the 
red-faced,  yelling,  threatening  ** bunch."  Let  him. 
That's  part  of  his  education.  How  will  he  ever 
learn  to  pick  a  good  fellow  from  among  the  bad 
fellows  if  he  doesn  't  know  them  both  ? 

He  may  choose  to  stay  in  his  corner  and  read. 
Let  him.  But  he  selects  a  thriller  that  some  ''care- 
less" adult  brought  in  and  left  lying  round  loose. 
Let  him.  He  won't  take  to  a  steady  diet  of  thrillers 
any  more  than  to  one  of  chocolate  sundaes.  Any 
more  than  the  careless  adult  who  read  it  before  him. 
More  likely,  he  will  get  his  stomach  full  and  stop. 
But  you  can't  bring  a  boy  up  without  his  share  of 
sweets. 

He  may  choose  to  practice  upon  some  musical 
instrument.  Let  him.  Though  it  tingle  through  the 
hairs  of  your  head.  Let  him.  The  weird  sounds  he 
makes  are  music  to  his  untutored  ears  and  he  will 
not  understand  your  suffering.    He  will  only  remem- 

90 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME 

ber  that  you  deprived  him  of  one  of  the  joys  of 
earthly  existence.    Let  him  alone. 

He  may  want  to  mess  around  with  paints,  or  tool 
or  stones.     Let  him.     He  has  all  sorts  of  ideas 
crowding  him  for  expression.    He  will  try  each  of 
them  in  turn  and  go  on  to  the  next. 

It  may  be  that  he  wants  to  lie  on  his  back  and 
dream.  Let  him.  He  is  learning  what  manner  of 
man  he  is.  He  is  thinking  out  who  he  is,  what  he  is, 
and  where  he  is  going  on  this  strange  road.  He 
cannot  tell  you  all  that,  of  course,  and  the  value 
of  his  droaming  depends  upon  its  food. 

Scatter  real  books  about  him.  Let  him  share  the 
best  experiences  of  the  home  and  family  and  friends. 
Let  him  listen  to  the  best  stories,  look  at  the  finest 
works.  Let  him  grow  in  an  atmosphere  of  friendli- 
ness, of  helpfulness,  of  culture.  Then  he  will  have 
food  for  such  dreams  as  men  are  made  of. 

Give  the  child  his  hour.  Let  him,  for  one  brief 
instant  of  time,  lose  himself  in  the  sweetness  of 
doing  what  his  heart  desires.  Then  he  will  have 
fewer  suppressed  desires  to  trouble  him.  He  will 
have  fewer  regrets  over  the  unfilled  hopes  of  his 
youth.  He  will  have  tried  himself  out  and,  as  far  as 
humanly  possible,  found  himself. 


AS  NORAH  SAW  IT 

**Mrs.  Bridges." 

"Yes,  Norah." 

"I'm  sorry,  but  I'm  leaving  the  first  of  the 
month." 

"Why,  Norah!"  Only  one  who  has  lost  a  Norah 
can  feel  the  dismay  of  that  "why." 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"But  why?  Is  the  work  too  hard?  Has  any  one 
offended  you  ?    What  is  wrong  1 ' ' 

"No,  it's  not  the  work,  and  I'm  not  offended,  but 
I  can't  stay  with  the  children  going  on  as  they  are." 

"But  I  can't  have  any  one  interfering  with  the 
children,  Norah." 

"Yes,  ma'am.  But  I  can't  have  them  interfering 
with  me  the  way  they  do.  Now,  yesterday  young 
Master  Tom  came  into  the  kitchen  to  take  my  egg- 
beater  to  beat  up  snow  for  his  ice  cream.  He  was 
mixing  mud  and  snow  and  calling  it  ice  cream,  and 
when  I  wouldn't  let  him  have  it  he  raised  up  a  holler 
and  his  grandmother  came  and  said  I  was  to  let  him 
have  what  he  wanted.  He  took  the  egg-beater  and 
I  had  to  beat  up  the  eggs  for  my  dessert  with  a  fork. 
And  it  was  washday,  and  me  so  busy." 

"Didn't  he  bring  it  back?" 

"No,  ma'am,  and  if  he  did,  what  good  would  it 
be  after  him  messin'  with  it?  I  couldn't  use  if  for 
making  cake." 

"Well,  I'll  speak  to  him  and  tell  him  to  keep  out 

92 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  93 

of  the  kitchen  and  I'll  get  you  another  egg-beater, 
Norah.  You  know,  children  are  children  and  you 
mustn't  expect  too  much  from  them." 

''No,  ma'am,  but  at  times  I  get  more  than  I  expect 
from  them.  Now,  there  last  week,  when  I  was  wash- 
ing up  the  back  hall.  Miss  Gladys  came  through  the 
hall  and  tracked  it.  I  told  her  to  go  round  the  other 
way  and  not  come  back  until  the  hall  was  dry. 

"She  goes  past  me  and  gets  her  things  from  the 
hall  closet  and  then,  to  my  surprise,  doesn't  she 
come  back  past  me  again.  '  Go  back, '  says  I,  speak- 
ing hard;  *go  back  and  go  through  the  other  door. 
This  floor  is  wet. ' 

**She  marches  straight  up  to  me  and  says,  *I  won't 
go  out  any  other  way.'  And  I  said,  'You  must  go 
out  the  other  way,'  and  goes  on  scrubbing.  With 
that,  she  stamps  her  foot  at  me  because  I  won't  get 
up  and  let  her  past,  and  when  I  lift  my  head  to  look 
at  her  she  spits  right  in  my  face.  She  does  that. 
Then  she  goes  out  the  other  door.'* 

**Why,  Norah!" 

"Yes,  ma'am.  As  I'm  saying,  I  get  from  them 
what  I  don't  expect  and  I'll  have  to  be  going  to  a 
place  where  they  have  no  children  at  all,  for  then 
they  can't  misbehave  to  me.  I'll  be  going  the  first 
of  the  month." 


THUMPERS  AND  BUMPERS 

Harry  was  coming  home  from  school.  There  was 
not  the  slightest  doubt  about  it.  You  heard  him 
coming  all  the  way.  His  heels  whacked  the  flagged 
walk.  The  gate  clanged  and  the  iron  fence  vibrated 
in  sympathy. 

Then  you  heard  him  land  heavily  on  the  front 
porch,  heard  the  door  fly  open,  heard  it  crash  to 
with  a  slam  that  made  the  doorbell  tinkle  in  weak 
alarm.  His  books  hurtled  to  the  floor  with  another 
bang;  you  knew  he  had  aimed  for  the  table  and 
missed.  You  heard  him  clump  upstairs  looking  for 
** Mother."  Heard  him  bumping  and  thumping 
about  the  house  as  you  have  heard  your  trunk  being 
up-ended  under  the  tender  ministrations  of  the 
local  expressman. 

''He's  always  like  that,"  said  his  mother,  with  a 
sigh  of  admiration.    ''He's  so  strong." 

"Yes,  strong  as  a  bull,"  assented  father  proudly. 

"And  behaves  like  one,"  you  groaned  inwardly. 

Ever  live  with  a  "strong"  person  for  a  week? 
The  dishes  shiver  and  shake  in  very  peril  of  their 
lives  as  the  strong  one  treads  his  ponderous  way 
across  the  floor.  The  quivering  chandeliers  herald 
his  coming.  The  chairs  and  couches  creak  and 
groan  as  he  catapults  his  dead  weight  upon  them. 

Such  a  one  grows  pudgy  and  fat  and  wheezy 
towards  middle  age.  He  has  worn  his  body  out 
thumping   and  bumping  it   at  all  the   inanimate 

94 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  95 

things  about  him.  People  get  out  of  his  way — ^his 
** strength"  tires  them. 

It  isn't  strength  at  all.  It  is  sheer  ignorance. 
One's  body  isn't  a  trunk  to  be  up-ended  through  the 
world.  It  has  a  mechanism  that  will  permit  it  to 
move  about  as  though  on  pneumatic  bearings. 
There  should  be  no  thud  when  one's  body  meets  a 
chair  or  a  couch.  There  should  be  no  dull  thump 
when  one's  foot  touches  the  floor.  Noise  and  effort 
of  movement  are  waste,  and  waste  is  vulgar.  The 
"strong"  boy  or  girl  is  an  untrained  child  and  most 
unfortunate. 

A  child's  body  should  move  through  space  as 
lightly  as  a  cloud  floats  across  the  sky,  the  very 
poetry  of  motion.  The  stronger  he  is,  the  better 
control  he  should  have  and  the  more  easily  he  should 
move. 

I  picture  Samson  as  a  lithe,  easy  moving,  splendid 
creature  whose  muscles  moved  under  his  skin  with 
the  powerful  ease  of  a  tiger.  As  he  moved  to  his 
place  between  the  two  pillars  his  feet  made  no 
sound;  his  body  glided  into  the  shadow;  his  arms 
curved  and  flexed  and  stretched  upward  and  out- 
ward with  the  sweep  of  an  eagle 's  wings ;  his  grace- 
ful, sensitive  fingers  curved  and  caught  hold,  with 
the  grip  of  Fate;  the  great  muscles  of  his  back 
flushed  into  full  power,  and  the  temple  crashed. 

Ease  goes  with  power.  Silence  belongs  to 
strength.  The  ''bumpers"  and  ''thumpers"  have 
neither  ease  nor  strength.  They  might  have  both 
if  they  were  caught  young  and  trained.  The  physi- 
cal training  teachers  know  all  about  it.    Ask  them. 


LOOKING  AWAY 

A  great  teacher  had  a  method  all  his  own.  He 
taught  his  pupils  to  look  at  a  thing  with  him.  He 
centered  their  attention  on  the  thing  he  wanted  them 
to  see,  never  on  himself.  They  never  thought  of  the 
master  who  was  giving  the  lesson.  They  looked  at 
what  he  showed  them,  and,  behold,  it  was  a  picture  of 
themselves  and  their  frailties! 

When  a  child  does  wrong  and  you  want  to  help 
him  to  do  the  thing  right,  try  to  have  him  look  at 
the  thing  you  want  him  to  see,  but  never  at  you ;  try 
to  separate  yourself  from  the  thing  that  has  gone 
wrong ;  try  to  lose  all  your  irritation  about  it  before 
you  speak  to  the  child  at  all. 

When  a  child  goes  wrong  and  you  lose  yourself 
in  wrath  at  his  weakness  and  scold  him,  he  sees  only 
your  expressions  of  anger.  He  sees  your  angry  eyes 
and  hears  your  tense,  shrill  tones  and  recoils  in 
protest.  Often  he  cannot  even  hear  what  you  are 
saying.  He  is  afraid  of  you  and  shrinks  away  from 
you. 

Instead  of  studying  the  thing  you  would  place 
before  him,  he  is  studying  you.  Your  dramatic 
action  holds  him  fast.  He  gazes  at  you  with  a  sort 
of  dumb  fascination. 

** Can't  you  see,  you  stupid  child " 

No,  he  cannot  see.  He  cannot  think  of  anything 
but  your  gestures,  your  force,  your  tense  brow  and 
pelting  words.  The  ideas  are  blotted  out  by  the 
trumpets  of  your  wrath. 

96 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  97 

Be  quiet.  Wait  a  few  minutes.  Smooth  your  face 
and  calm  your  spirit.  Things  are  never  as  bad  as 
you  think  they  are.  Many  a  time  they  have  been 
worse  and  you  have  known  nothing  about  it.  First 
control  yourself  so  that  your  offended  ego  will  not 
fill  the  world  for  the  child. 

Now  tell  him  the  story  you  would  have  him  under- 
stand. He  can  put  his  mind  upon  it  and  never  think 
of  you.  Together  you  can  examine  the  situation  and 
hit  upon  a  plan  to  make  things  better.    Look  away. 

The  high  school  member  of  the  family  was  exceed- 
ing his  allowance.  Instead  of  growing  angry,  his 
father  called  him  in  and  went  over  the  family  budget 
with  him.  He  said  no  word  about  the  lad's  error. 
Just  told  him  what  it  cost  to  run  the  family  and 
what  his  plans  for  them  were.  Thereafter  the  lad's 
account  showed  a  saving  instead  of  a  deficit. 

Even  little  children  can  be  taught  to  look  at  a 
thing  they  have  done  in  the  light  of  investigation. 
They  can  be  taught  to  look  at  it  without  a  trace  of 
the  selfishness  that  entered  into  the  doing  of  it. 
It  takes  a  little  longer  than  the  old  way,  but  it  works 
better  and  lasts  longer. 


BETTER   BE    STILL 

Everybody  talks  too  mucli.  Everybody.  The  con- 
fusion of  tongues,  the  curse  of  the  Tower  of  Babel, 
is  upon  us. 

Why  not  be  still? 

Think  of  the  suffering  of  the  children.  The 
grown-ups  are  used  to  it.  They  have  been  talked 
into  the  utter  weariness  you  see  in  their  lined  faces, 
their  lagging  feet,  their  jaded  eyes.  Talked  into 
torpor. 

Be  still  and  rest.  Above  all,  give  the  children  a 
rest. 

Think  of  what  goes  on  at  home  in  the  evening. 
Doesn't  it  remind  you  of  the  funny  man's  account 
of  the  play — ^'three-thirds  talk  and  the  other  third 
conversation?"  And  most  of  it  is  directed  at  the 
luckless  youngsters. 

The  small  boy  makes  a  mistake.  The  big  brother 
corrects  him.  The  older  sister  takes  it  up.  The 
younger  brother  passes  it  on.  Father  speaks  his 
mind  upon  it.  Mother  adds  her  opinion  of  the  situa- 
tion on  the  whole.  If  any  of  the  aunts  and  uncles 
are  about,  and  they  generally  are,  they  slip  over 
their  ideas  of  the  thing  and  invariably  make  the 
odious  remark  about  what  would  happen  in  their 
family  if  one  of  their  children  had  done  such  a  thing. 

The  child  is  smothered  in  an  avalanche  of  words. 
He  is  drowned.  He  comes  up  sputtering  and  the 
family  unite  in  a  stentorian  order,  **Be   Still!" 

96 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  99 

That  should  be  the  rule  for  the  whole  family,  "Be 
Still." 

Things  are  no  different  in  school.  The  child  is 
talked  at  and  talked  to.  He  gets  little  chance  to  talk 
for  himself.  He  is  the  storm  center  of  speech. 
Home  and  church  and  school ;  talk,  talk,  talk.  Why 
not  try  what  keeping  still  will  do  ?  This  everlasting 
talking  causes  the  child  to  close  his  ears  in  self -pro- 
tection. He  no  longer  listens.  Not  listening,  he  is 
not  attending.  Not  attending,  he  is  not  learning. 
Be  still.    Even  when  you  most  want  to  talk,  be  still. 

When  he  is  noisy  and  rude,  why  add  to  the  con- 
fusion by  being  loud  yourself?  Look  your  disap- 
proval and  set  a  better  example. 

When  he  comes  home  with  a  bit  of  gossip  that 
might  better  be  left  untold,  silence  him  with  a  look. 
Let  him  listen  to  your  thoughts  that  say  louder  than 
words,  ** Towards  weakness,  silence." 

A  little  fellow  came  home  from  school  and  an- 
nounced that  his  teacher  had  not  liked  him  that  day. 
"What  did  she  say?"  inquired  his  mother  anx- 
iously. 

"Oh,  she  didn't  say  anything  at  all.  She  hardly 
ever  says  anything  to  the  fellows  unless  they  are 
very  good,  and  she  never  speaks  to  you  if  she  thinks 
you  are  bad.  She  just  looks  at  you  kind  of  cold.  So 
I  know  she  didn't  like  me  to-day." 

"Do  you  know  what  you  did  that  she  did  not 
like?" 

"Yep.  And  I'm  not  going  to  do  it  to-morrow.  I 
don't  like  it  when  she  doesn't  say  anything." 

Be  still.  It  will  train  the  child  to  listen  and 
attend. 


NERVOUS  CHILDREN 

*'I*d  like  to  have  you  speak  to  Carrie's  teacher. 
She  sent  a  report  card  home  with  very  unsatisfac- 
tory marks  on  it.  I've  been  to  see  her  several  times 
and  it  hasn't  done  the  shghtest  good.  I'd  like  you 
to  talk  to  her." 

"What's  the  trouble?" 

"My  daughter  is  a  very  nervous  child,"  said  the 
mother,  with  an  air  of  pointing  towards  something 
extraordinary  in  her  daughter.  "I've  told  the 
teacher  that  she  mustn't  expect  to  hold  her  to  the 
standards  of  the  other  children,  but  it's  no  use.  She 
marks  her  just  the  same.  Now,  you  can't  make  all 
children  alike.  You  must  make  exceptions  once  in 
a  while. ' ' 

"Of  course.  What  exceptions  did  you  want  the 
teacher  to  make  for  your  Carrie?" 

"Well,  you  see,  Carrie  has  always  been  delicate 
and  cannot  get  up  early  in  the  morning.  She  is  late 
for  school  every  day  and  the  teacher  won't  make 
any  allowance  for  her.     She " 

"Are  you  serious  in  saying  that  your  daughter 
is  late  for  school  every  day?" 

"Why,  yes.  I  never  waken  her  in  the  morning 
if  she  is  asleep.  I  let  her  have  her  sleep  out.  She 
is  a  very  nervous  child. ' ' 

"How  old  is  she?  What's  the  matter  with  her? 
Why  can't  she  rise  early?" 

"She's    just    past    twelve    and    very    delicate. 

100 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  101 

There's  nothing  serious  the  matter  with  her.  She's 
just  nervous. ' ' 

' '  Then  there 's  nothing  the  matter  with  her  at  all. 
If  she  was  so  nervous  that  she  could  not  rise  and 
get  to  school  in  the  morning  she  would  be  in  the 
hospital  under  the  doctor's  care.  What  time  does 
she  go  to  bed  ? ' ' 

**She  never  goes  to  bed  until  I  go.  She's  so 
nervous  that  she  cannot  think  of  going  to  bed  and 
leaving  me.    I  generally  get  to  bed  before  eleven." 

*'A11  Carrie  needs  is  to  be  sent  to  bed  on  time. 
She  isn't  nervous.  All  she  needs  is  a  regular  bed- 
time. Send  her  to  school  on  time.  We  will  hold 
you  accountable  for  her  lateness." 

The  schools  are  full  of  ''nervous'*  children. 
''Nervous"  covers  a  multitude  of  sins  visited  by 
the  parents  upon  the  heads  of  their  children. 

"Jacky  isn't  a  naughty  boy.  He  pinches  the 
others,  but  he  is  a  very  nervous  child  and  they  an- 
noy him." 

"Mabel  fails  in  her  lessons  because  the  teacher 
makes  her  nervous." 

"Yes,  Clarice  is  very  disobedient.  She  is  that 
way  at  home.  But  she  has  always  been  a  delicate 
child  and  I  couldn't  punish  her." 

Nonsense.  These  children  aren't  "nervous." 
They  are  spoiled.  Never  use  the  word  before  them, 
much  less  to  them.  A  nervous  child  should  be  in  the 
hospital  having  his  nervous  system  trained.  The 
lazy  and  the  mischievous  and  the  disobedient  need 
discipline  for  their  health's  sake.    Try  it. 


BOBBY'S  RIGHT— IT  ISN'T  FAIR 

Do  you  like  to  be  interrupted  when  you  have  set- 
tled down  to  work  or  play?  You  do  not.  Neither 
does  your  boy  or  girl. 

Bobby  came  in  from  school  and  his  mother  told 
him  to  put  his  books  in  the  right  place,  change  his 
clothes,  wash  his  hands  and  face,  and  not  to  dawdle. 

He  did  all  this  with  not  more  than  three  reminders 
and  a  positive  command.  Then  he  ate  his  apple  and 
bread  and  butter. 

'  *  Now,  Robert,  I  want  you  to  go  down  to  the  cor- 
ner for  me  and  get  a  few  things  that  the  grocer  for- 
got.   Then  you  can  run  out  and  play  for  a  while.'* 

**Huh,"  said  Bobby,  grumbling  cheerfully. 
**That  grocer  forgets  on  purpose.  I'll  bet  it  was 
the  kerosene  and  the  eggs  he  forgot." 

''You're  right.  But  never  mind.  Hurry  along 
now."  He  darted  off  and  was  back  before  his 
mother  missed  him.  He  dropped  the  kerosene  with 
a  thump  on  the  kitchen  porch  and  set  the  eggs  safely 
on  the  table.  Then  he  went  to  the  back  yard  to  work 
on  his  dog  house. 

He  had  a  board  half  sawed  through  when  his 
mother  called  him. 

**  Robert,  dear,  Mrs.  Hall  is  going  to  have  com- 
pany for  tea  and  the  green  grocer  forgot  the  lettuce. 
Do,  like  a  good  boy,  run  down  street  and  get  it  for 
her." 

"Please  do,  Bobby,"  said  Mrs.  Hall.    **I  don't 

102 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  103 

see  how  I  overlooked  it  till  this  minute.  I  simply 
have  to  have  it. ' ' 

Bobby  left  his  saw  sticking  in  the  board  and  ran 
off.  He  returned  just  as  the  table  was  being  laid  for 
dinner. 

''Come  along,  Robert.  Time  to  wash  up  for  din- 
ner.  Put  your  things  away  now  and  come  along  in. ' ' 

''But,  mother,  I  haven't  done  a  thing.  I've  had 
to  run  errands  ever  since  I  came  home.  And  it 
wasn't  my  turn  to  do  the  errands,  either.  It  was 
Helen's,  but  she  gets  out  of  everything.  Can't  I 
finish  my  house  ? ' ' 

"It's  too  late.  Come,  now.  Don't  argue.  Your 
father  will  be  home  in " 

"I  don't  care.  I  don't  think  it's  fair.  I  haven't 
had  a  chance  to  do  a  thing  I  wanted  to  do  to-day. 
I  can't  have  a  minute  to  do  what  I  want  to  do." 

"Well,  maybe  after  dinner  you  can  fix  your  dog 
house. ' ' 

"No,  I  can't.  After  dinner  I  have  to  do  my  les- 
sons. Then  I  have  to  get  ready  for  bed.  To-morrow 
it  will  be  just  the  same.  I  know.  I  have  to  do 
everything  about  this  house." 

It  does  seem  as  if  the  children  were  entitled  to 
a  routined  day  as  well  as  grown-ups.  Routine  is 
what  saves  our  lives.  Habit  carries  us  over  many 
a  hard  day.  The  children  need  it  and  have  a  right 
to  it. 


SATUEDAY 

Saturday  is  the  day  before  Sunday.  It  is  the  day 
that  closes  the  door  on  the  week's  work  and  pre- 
pares a  clear  road  for  the  first  day  of  the  next. 
It  is  the  day  when  the  children  are  freed  from  their 
school  work  and  have  an  opportunity  to  share  in 
the  family  activities. 

The  porches  can  be  swept  by  the  boy  in  the  house. 
He  needs  the  experience  for  his  mind  and  his  muscles. 
The  cellar  needs  sweeping  and  dusting,  and  no  day 
is  as  good  for  that  as  Saturday.  The  ash  can  and 
the  garbage  can  need  attention,  and  that  is  their 
day. 

The  lawn  needs  mowing,  and  the  boy  can  do  that 
instead  of  leaving  it  for  his  father.  The  weeds  can 
be  pulled  and  the  paths  made  clean.  They  cry  out 
for  the  attention  of  the  boy  of  the  house. 

The  chicken  house  needs  cleaning,  too,  and  this 
is  a  fine  day  for  cleaning  it.  The  lad  will  enjoy  the 
eggs  all  the  more  if  he  has  had  a  hand  in  caring  for 
the  hens. 

The  inside  work  belongs  generally  to  the  girls. 
Saturday  is  polishing  day.  The  faucets  and  the 
doorknobs  are  treated  to  a  rubbing,  so  they  may 
have  proper  Sunday  morning  faces. 

The  bathroom  jewelry  needs  polishing,  and  every 
girl  should  know  how  to  keep  a  bathroom  in  order. 
The  towels  have  to  be  changed,  the  fresh  wash  rags 

101 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  105 

hung  out  on  each  towel  rack.     The  silver  on  the 
toilet  tables  rubbed  and  placed  in  order. 

The  flower  holders  need  a  bath  and  fresh  flowers 
to  brighten  the  house  for  the  Sunday  company. 
Little  girls  love  to  prepare  for  visitors  and  they 
should  be  allowed  to  practice — on  Saturday. 

Any  family  will  furnish  enough  jobs  to  keep  all 
its  children  happily  and  profitably  employed  all 
morning. 

No  child  can  do  all  the  Saturday  jobs  in  one  day 
all  by  himself.  But  he  can  do  some  of  them.  He 
will  enjoy  his  afternoon  off  then  much  more  than 
if  he  had  lounged  about  the  house  trying  to  pass 
his  time  until  called  for  his  meals.  Playing  ball  all 
day  or  reading  a  book  in  the  corner  all  day  is  not 
healthy  Saturday  work. 

The  children  get  little  chance  to  take  part  in  the 
family  life.  They  go  to  school  every  day,  have  spe- 
cial lessons  in  the  afternoons,  have  their  meals, 
study,  go  to  bed,  get  up  again  and  do  it  all  over. 
Everything  is  done  for  them  of  necessity,  and  they 
get  no  chance  to  learn  to  help.  They  need  that 
chance. 

If  you  lived  in  the  country  when  you  were  little 
you  had  Saturday  jobs.  Some  of  you  who  lived 
in  the  city  had  them,  too.  They  did  you  good,  and 
they  will  do  your  children  good.  The  homely  little 
tasks  take  root  in  the  hearts  of  the  children  and  hold 
them  close  to  home  when  other  things  pull  hard  in 
the  opposite  direction. 


TOYS 

When  you  buy  a  toy  for  a  child  do  you  stop  to 
think  what  it  will  do  to  him  or  for  him? 

You  are  careful  about  giving  him  a  sharp  knife, 
a  gun,  or  a  drum,  lest  he  hurt  himself  or  annoy  you. 
But  the  toys  you  buy  for  him? 

Of  what  earthly  use  is  a  stuffed  rabbit  to  a 
healthy,  active  child?  He  tosses  it  on  the  floor  and 
runs  off  to  see  something  that  moves  and  will  do 
something.  The  horse  that  does  not  go,  the  doll  that 
cannot  be  used,  toys  that  are  only  to  look  at,  are 
silly  and  useless. 

A  child  should  have  the  toys  that  will  train  him 
along  the  way  you  want  him  to  go.  Toys  have  great 
influence.  Napoleon's  favorite  toys  were  toy  sol- 
diers. So  were  the  Kaiser's.  Lincoln's  toys  were 
hatchets  and  sticks  and  squirrels  and  chipmunks 
and  the  great  outdoors. 

A  set  of  garden  tools  are  good  things  for  children 
to  have  if  they  live  where  they  can  use  them.  Gar- 
dens and  children  belong  together.  Live  rabbits 
are  a  great  improvement  upon  stuffed  ones. 

A  hammer  and  saw  and  some  nails  open  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new  earth  to  the  boys.  They  may 
not  make  anything  worth  while.  No  matter.  They 
experience  force  and  distance  and  resistance  and 
measurement  and  patience  and  perseverance  with 
every  nail  they  drive.    Even  the  boys  in  the  city 

106 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  107 

flats  can  manage  a  few  tools.  There  are  always 
the  backyard  and  the  basement. 

A  doll  and  the  things  that  go  with  her  belong  to 
every  little  girl.  They  are  part  of  her  education. 
The  ^'best  doll"  dressed  for  a  ball  and  set  on  the 
top  shelf  to  be  used  on  high  and  holy  days  is  a  de- 
lusion and  a  snare.  One  always  suspects  the  mother 
of  having  purchased  it  for  herself. 

A  box  of  blocks  that  can  be  made  into  houses 
and  bams  is  a  fine  toy.  The  blocks  must  be  big. 
The  house  and  the  barn  must  be  large  enough  to 
put  the  animals  into,  store  the  automobile,  and 
house  the  attendants.  The  toys  that  fit  out  the  bam 
should  be  selected  with  an  eye  to  rough  service. 

If  it  is  possible  to  give  the  child  a  chair  that  was 
made  for  him,  a  table  that  fits  the  chair,  dishes  the 
right  size  for  his  table  and  his  hands,  a  little  tub 
to  wash  the  dishes  in,  a  low  cupboard  to  put  them 
away  in,  he  will  be  a  happy  child  indeed. 

Show  him  how  and  then  leave  him  alone.  Let  the 
child  do  his  own  work,  do  his  own  thinking.  Let 
him  take  things  apart  and  put  them  together  again 
without  interference.  If  he  asks  for  help,  give  it  to 
him,  but  give  him  no  more  than  he  needs.  Let  him 
use  his  toys  and,  using  them,  grow. 


THE  EVERYDAY  DOLL 

Christmas  is  coming  and  thousands  of  little  girls 
will  get  dolls  on  that  day.  I  hope  they  will  be  every- 
day dolls. 

I  once  knew  a  little  girl  who  loved  dolls.  She  had 
a  great  family  of  them.  They  were  made  of  all 
sorts  of  things,  from  clothespins  to  peanuts.  Each 
of  them  had  a  name  and  was  beloved  by  their  little 
mother. 

"Show  your  friends  your  real  doll,"  said  her 
mother. 

**0h,"  said  the  child  doubtfully,  **  would  you  like 
to  see  the  grand  doll?  It  isn't  a  special  day,  so 
I'm  not  playing  with  her.  She  isn't  to  play  with. 
She  always  sits  in  the  chair  and  comes  out  on  birth- 
days and  Christmas  and  such  times.  Or  if  I  go  for 
a  walk  with  anybody  special,  I  carry  her." 

The  child  led  the  way  to  the  parlor,  where  the  ele- 
gant doll  sat  in  state,  an  imposing  mass  of  friUs 
and  gorgeous  pink  satin  hat. 

''This  is  the  grand  doll?"  I  asked.  **You  must 
like  her  best  of  all." 

"She's  not  to  be  liked,"  chuckled  the  little  girl 
at  my  mistaken  idea.  "She's  to  be  for  show.  The 
everyday  dolls  are  for  playing  with.  I  can  like  them 
all  I  want  to.  I  can  dress  and  undress  them,  and 
even  if  they  fall  down  in  the  dirt  it  doesn't  matter. 
They  're  the  dolls  you  can  play  with.  They  're  play- 
ing dolls,  everyday  dolls." 

108 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  109 

"Which  one  is  really  your  pet?" 

*'My  rag  doll.  I've  had  her  the  longest  of  all. 
She's  pretty  old  now,  but  she's  the  best.  She  goes 
to  bed  with  me  and  keeps  me  from  being  scared 
in  the  night. 

**When  I  dream  something  and  wake  up  fright- 
ened I  catch  hold  of  her  and  I  know  I'm  all  right 
in  my  own  bed  at  home.  And  all  the  little  dolls. 
They  are  the  best,  too.  They  are  the  children." 
And  she  showed  a  long  row  of  little  dolls  from 
three  to  five  inches  long. 

"They're  the  best  'cause  you  can  dress  them 
so  easy.  You  can  take  a  piece  of  cloth  and  wrap 
it  around  them  and  make  a  hole  for  their  heads  and 
their  hands  and  that's  all. 

"They  don't  cost  so  much,  so  I  can  have  a  lot 
of  them.  They  make  scholars  for  school  and  chil- 
dren for  the  doll  house;  oh,  everything.  I  want  a 
lot  more." 

This  being  first  hand,  expert  information  on  a 
subject  of  great  importance  to  all  little  girls,  I 
thought  I'd  better  pass  it  along.  The  idea  seemed 
to  be  that  while  the  grand  doll  was  all  right  for 
state  occasions,  she  didn't  count  for  much  in  the 
everyday  scheme.  For  that  the  everyday  doll  was 
the  best. 

Please  tell  Santa  Claus. 


HIS  DOG 

**Wliat  in  the  world  have  you  there,  Tom!" 

"A  turkle.'* 

*'A  turtle,  you  mean.    Where  did  you  find  himt'* 

**  Coming  home  from  school  I  found  him  by  the 
side  of  the  road  by  the  woods." 

"Did  you  put  that  hole  through  his  shell?" 

**No.  The  hole  was  in.  The  string  was  tied  in 
it  just  like  now.  I  brought  him  home  and  tied  him 
to  the  porch  rail.  I'm  going  to  keep  him.  Some 
other  fellow  lost  him." 

Tom  ran  down  the  steps  followed  by  the  fifteen 
neighborhood  chums  who  had  gathered  to  the  call 
of  ''Come,  see  my  turkle." 

They  pulled  tufts  of  grass  for  him  and  spread 
them  on  the  porch  floor  to  "make  him  think  he  was 
in  the  woods."  Mother  waited  until  dinner  was 
served  when,  of  course,  Tom  had  to  leave  his  pet 
and  come  in. 

When  dinner  was  over  she  said :  *  *  Tom,  you  must 
take  the  turtle  back  to  the  woods,  dear.  He  cannot 
live  on  the  porch.  He  must  go  back  to  the  woods 
to-night."  This  last  very  firmly,  for  Tom  showed 
every  indication  of  wanting  to  argue  the  matter. 

"I'll  go  with  you  and  help  you  put  him  in  a  good 
place,"  said  father. 

Tom  looked  up  gratefully.  Perhaps  there  was 
still  a  chance.    But  father  led  the  way  to  the  woods 

110 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  111 

and  selected  a  damp,  sheltered  place  and  said: 
** Guess  he'll  like  it  here,  Tom.'* 

Tom  set  the  turtle  down  and  took  the  string  off 
him. 

That  evening  after  Tom  was  in  bed  father  said 
to  mother:  '*Tom  ought  to  have  a  dog.  He's  old 
enough  to  take  care  of  one  and  he  needs  a  friendly 
pet.    We'll  have  to  get  him  one." 

When  Tom  heard  that  he  was  to  have  a  dog  his 
delight  knew  no  bounds.  His  happiness  and  excite- 
ment rose  to  fever  heat.  ''When?  How  soon? 
Will  you  buy  him  to-morrow?" 

One  evening  mother  came  in  with  a  little  dog 
under  her  arm.  **I  brought  your  dog,  Tom,"  she 
said. 

"Where?  Where?  Is  he  outside?  Let  him  in. 
Where  is  he?" 

"Here,  child.  Can't  you  see?  Are  you  so  ex- 
cited that  you  can't  see  him?"  And  she  proudly 
set  a  little  Chow  puppy  on  the  floor. 

Tom  looked  at  the  dainty  creature  and  tried  to 
swallow  his  idea  of  what  a  dog  ought  to  be  and  take 
this  wee  thing  to  his  heart.  But  his  disappoint- 
ment was  too  evident. 

"  'Tisn't  your  kind  of  a  dog,  is  it?"  asked  father. 

*  *  No, ' '  said  Tom.  "  He 's  a  very  nice  little  dog  for 
ladies,  but  I  wanted  a  dog  that  would  eat  out  of  the 
garbage  cans,  like  Bunt's." 

"Just  so,"  said  father.  "I  think  I  know  where 
to  get  it." 

"And  I'll  call  him  Pike,"  said  Tom  happily. 

When  you  buy  a  gift  for  a  child,  be  sure  that  you 
don't  buy  it  for  yourself.  You  do  sometimes,  you 
know. 


THE  ANIMALS 

Children  should  have  a  chance  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  animals  if  their  happiness  is  to  be 
complete.  The  child  who  is  brought  up  without  the 
contact  of  friendly  animals  is  defrauded. 

There  are  the  animals  to  be  wondered  at.  "What  is 
a  child  without  his  chance  to  wonder?  Take  him 
to  see  the  camel.  He  will  stand  before  him  fasci- 
nated by  the  solemn  air  of  this  "sad  son  of  the 
desert."  To  a  child  he  is  a  source  of  mystery  and 
therefore  of  joy.  If  he  may  have  a  ride  on  his 
woggly  back,  so  much  the  better. 

The  elephant  is  for  wondering  purposes,  too. 
Why  is  he  so  big?  Why  is  his  skin  so  thick?  Why 
should  he  have  a  trunk?  No  other  animal  has  one. 
Why  did  God  give  him  a  trunk  with  a  little  finger 
so  fine  that  it  can  take  a  peanut  from  a  baby's  hand, 
and  yet  so  powerful  that  he  can  twist  out  the  trees 
by  the  roots  and  make  them  into  toothpicks?  Why? 
I  wonder. 

The  tortoises.  Every  child  loves  them.  They 
have  all  been  told  their  kinship  to  the  slow  tortoise, 
the  lazy  tortoise  who  never  seems  to  wake  up  or 
hurry.  They  picture  him  crawhng  along  the  dusty 
road,  and  giggle  with  glee  when  they  remember  that 
he  sat  waiting  at  the  post  for  the  gay  little  rabbit 
who  frisked  and  played  and  napped  by  the  way. 

What  makes  him  live  so  long?  Is  it  because  he 
pulls  himseK  into  his  house  and  shuts  the  door  and 

112 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  113 

lets  the  troubles  of  the  world  go  by  while  he  sleeps 
in  peace?  Perhaps.  But  who  but  a  tortoise  would 
care  to  do  that? 

The  tiger  is  a  fearsome  creature.  The  children 
do  not  like  him  much. 

They  read  his  character  accurately  and  pass  him 
by.  ''He's  so  bad  and  mean,"  said  one  of  the  chil- 
dren, "that  God  made  him  a  striped  suit.  Don't 
let  us  look  at  him." 

Monkeys.  Oh,  monkeys!  Perhaps  there  is  some 
old,  old  association  between  monkeys  and  children 
that  we  grown-ups  have  lost  and  forgotten.  Any- 
way, children  adore  monkeys.  They  are  the  ''com- 
ics" of  the  animal  world,  and  children  understand 
their  humor.    A  little  monkey  fun  won't  hurt  them. 

When  they  get  enough  monkey,  take  them  to  the 
fish  tank  and  let  them  watch  the  slivers  of  rainbow 
swimming  through  the  clear  water.  Watching  fish  is 
food  for  the  nerves — ^just  as  watching  stretches  of 
soft  green  grass  is  good  for  the  eyes. 

And  after  they  have  gazed,  and  wondered,  and 
exclaimed  to  the  point  of  exhaustion,  they  will  go 
home  and  cuddle  the  best  animal  friend  a  child  ever 
knows,  his  dog. 

The  dog  is  the  child's  own  animal.  He  can  be 
touched  and  pulled  and  slapped  and  patted  and 
hugged  and  loved.  He  can  be  fed  and  talked  to, 
and  he  will  "answer  back."  He  is  an  intimate 
friend — an  education  in  himself. 


RESPECT  THEM 

Respect  your  children.  Teach  other  people  to 
respect  them.  Too  many  parents  think  their  chil- 
dren are  wonderful  little  beings  and  exhibit  them. 

Visitors  come  and  the  baby  is  wakened  and 
dressed  so  the  company  may  see  what  a  clever  child 
he  is.  All  his  cunning  little  ways  are  pointed  out. 
The  baby  grows  tired  and  the  party  ends  in  a  cry- 
ing spell. 

When  he  is  a  little  older  he  is  brought  forward 
to  speak  pieces — that  torment  of  childhood.  If 
he  is  a  bold  child  he  will  enjoy  it  and  do  well.  If 
he  is  a  timid  child  he  will  suffer  untold  agonies,  stam- 
mer a  few  words  and  run  off.  This  is  bad  for  all 
children. 

It  means  nothing,  this  forwardness,  or  this  tim- 
idity, to  his  later  development.  A  child  may  recite 
beautifully  and  yet  grow  into  a  stupid  man.  The 
slow  timid  child  may  appear  backward  and  still  be- 
come a  very  bright  man. 

Remember  Hans  Christian  Andersen.  As  a  child 
he  was  homely,  retiring,  backward.  His  parents 
were  ashamed  of  him.  He  became  a  wonderful  man. 
A  man  whom  kings  delighted  to  honor.  He  knew 
what  it  meant  to  be  singled  out  as  the  slow  child, 
the  homely  one,  the  awkward  one.  He  suffered 
keenly.  He  wrote  all  about  it  in  his  story  of  the 
Ugly  Duckling.    If  ever  you  are  tempted  to  exhibit 

114 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  115 

your  clever  child  and  scold  the  retiring  one,  read 
that  story  again. 

The  child  should  not  be  forced.  God  gave  him 
long  years  of  childhood.  During  those  years  we 
cannot  tell  what  growth  is  being  formed.  We  can 
only  feed  his  mind  and  soul  and  wait.  To-day  he 
may  be  afraid  to  speak  before  a  stranger.  To-mor- 
row he  may  move  thousands  by  his  eloquence. 

The  children  who  carry  home  the  100  per  cent, 
report  cards  may  become  fine  men  and  women  and 
they  may  not.  The  plump  little  boy  who  sits  staring 
ahead  of  him  like  a  solemn  young  owl,  never  making 
a  higher  rating  than  60,  may  be  the  real  leader  of 
the  class.    Be  patient. 

One  lays  hands  upon  the  bud  and  tears  it  open 
to  see  what  is  inside.  He  sees  nothing  and  he  spoils 
the  flower.    The  growing  child  is  sacred.    Wait. 

Give  him  worth-while  work.  Feed  him  stories 
that  wiU  keep  his  dream  alive — ^his  imagination 
working. 

Give  him  music.  When  he  is  weary  and  ready  to 
give  up  it  will  lift  him  up  and  carry  him  on. 

Teach  him  joyful  things.  Wrap  him  in  joy.  Hap- 
piness is  his  soul's  food. 

Stand  back  and  keep  hands  off.  Watch  reverently 
for  him  to  unfold.  Man's  awakening  comes  in  the 
fullness  of  time. 


HER  MUSIC  LESSONS 

"One,   two,   three,   four.     One,   two,   three 

There.  Use  your  second  finger.  Now  begin  all  over 
again  and  try  to  keep  your  mind  on  what  you  are 
doing.    Pay  attention.'* 

''Ready.    One,  two,  three,  four.    One,  two " 

Snap,  down  came  the  music  teacher's  pencil  across 
Jane 's  knuckles. 

* '  Good-ness.  You  are  im-possible.  I  cannot  teach 
you  music.  You  have  no  talent.  One  whole  month 
on  'The  Maiden's  Prayer'  and  you  cannot  do  one 
run.  I  stop  to-day."  And  the  irate  music  teacher 
drew  on  her  gloves  and  left  the  house. 

"I  can't  help  it,  daddy,"  sobbed  Jane  that  eve- 
ning. "I  can't  help  it.  I  forget  which  finger,  I  for- 
get to  count.    I  hate  'The  Maiden's  Prayer.'  " 

"Well,  well.  And  all  the  time  we  thought  you 
loved  music." 

"No,  I  hate  it.  I  love  to  play  things,  but  she 
never  lets  me  play  them.  She  told  mother  not  to  let 
me  strum  and  I  love  to  strum.  I  think  I'll  die  if  I 
can't  strum." 

Daddy  smiled  and  said,  * '  Oh,  no.    Please  strum. ' ' 

The  music  lessons  were  an  almost  forgotten  grief 
when  daddy  was  reminded  of  them  at  the  close  of  a 
hard  day.  He  was  reading  his  paper  in  the  quiet 
of  the  library  when  Jane  began  to  strum.  Scarcely 
heeding  at  first,  daddy  laid  down  his  paper  and  then 
found  himself  listening.    He  went  over  to  the  piano. 

116 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  117 

Jane  smiled  at  him  as  he  came  near,  her  eyes  full 
of  dreams.    Then  her  hands  slid  from  the  keys. 

**I  can't  get  it.  I  almost  get  it,  but  then  it  isn't 
there.  I  think  I'm  going  to  get  it  this  time,  but  it 
comes  out  different." 

''What  is  it  you  want  to  do?" 

**Play  out  the  things  I  think  about.  Only  for 
words  I  make  the  sounds.  I  have  lovely  sounds  that 
stand  for  things.  I've  found  them  all  by  myself. 
I  '11  show  you. 

''There's  notes  like  the  church  bells.  Here's  a 
handful  of  them.  Listen.  The  other  night  I  found 
the  sounds  of  the  waves  that  slosh  against  the  dock 
when  the  boats  come  in. 

' '  I  love  to  do  things  like  that,  but  I  can 't  play  that 
'Maiden's  Prayer.'  I  have  no  talent,"  and  she 
sighed  resignedly. 

"Do  you  play  things  often?" 

"Yes,  when  I  get  the  chance.  I'll  play  you  one 
I  found  the  other  day.  It's  the  morning  coming 
up  over  the  Sound,  and  the  sky  is  all  blue  and  pink 
and  dimmy  gold.  The  little  birds  call  to  each  other 
and  the  teeny,  teeny  waves  swish  over  the  seaweed. 
Do  you  hear  it? 

"But  I  can't  get  it  really.  I've  tried  to  get  the 
wind  into  it  and  I  can't.  Do  you  know  the  sound  it 
makes  when  it  ruffles  the  pine  needles — little  Ufts 
of  sounds?    I  wish  I  could  get  that. " 

"I  think  I  know  a  teacher  that  would  help  you 
get  it." 

"0  daddy!"  Then  anxiously,  "Has  she  a  lead 
pencil?" 

"She  wouldn't  know  what  to  do  with  it." 


"A  FINE  SCOUT'' 

**Fred,"  called  father,  **I  want  you  to  go  over 
to  the  plumber's  and  get  me  a  couple  of  lengths  of 
pipe  and  a  bunch  of  washers  I  ordered  there  the 
other  day.  Then  you  can  help  me  do  the  odds  and 
ends  about  the  house  and  see  if  we  can  keep  it  from 
falling  in  on  our  heads.  It 's  lucky  I  have  a  holiday 
once  in  a  while.  I  can 't  imagine  what  would  happen 
to  this  family  if  I  wasn't  around." 

Fred's  face  fell  as  he  heard  the  program,  and  he 
stood  gazing  at  his  father,  who  was  bending  over 
his  work  bench. 

"And,  Fred,  call  in  at  the  garage  and  bring  in 
the  oil  pump  I  left  there  to  have  mended.  We'll 
fix  up  the  car  a  bit,  too.  Why,  what's  the  matter 
with  you?  You  look  as  if  I  had  done  something  to 
you." 

"Why,  dad,  I  wanted  to  go  to  the  game  this  after- 
noon after  I  got  my  work  done. ' ' 

"That's  right.  You've  got  to  go  to  your  game, 
never  mind  what  happens  to  the  family.  Do  I  go  to 
the  game  1  I  give  up  my  holiday  to  work  for  all  of 
you  and  that's  the  way  you  thank  me.  You're  a 
fine  Scout." 

It  was  bad  enough  to  take  the  boy's  day  without 
as  much  as  "by  your  leave";  but  why  taunt  him 
about  being  a  good  Scout?  And  why  make  a  speech 
measuring  a  father's  interests  and  duties  against 
a  boy's? 

lis 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  119 

So  many  people  do  it,  though.  It's  a  common 
habit.  If  the  boy  or  girl  protests  about  running  the 
thousandth  errand,  some  one  says,  **And  you're  a 
Scout?  Should  think  you'd  be  ashamed  to  wear 
the  uniform." 

If  the  little  girl  pouts  because  she  has  to  wash  up 
the  dishes  after  dinner  when  she  wants  to  go  out, 
some  one  says,  ''That's  right.  Make  a  fuss  about 
the  least  little  thing  you  are  asked  to  do  about  the 
house.  All  you  want  to  do  is  to  rush  around  town 
with  a  lot  of  girls  and  wear  your  Scout's  uniform. 
Fine  Scout  you  are." 

That  sort  of  thing  does  plenty  of  harm  and  not 
a  bit  of  good.  If  you  want  the  children  to  help  about 
the  house,  give  them  a  routined  day,  so  they  will 
know  exactly  what  time  they  can  count  on  for  them- 
selves. 

It  isn't  fair  to  measure  an  adult's  interests  and 
duties  against  those  of  the  children.  The  father 
who  was  cleaning  up  about  the  house  was  enjoying 
it  quite  as  much  as  the  lad  would  have  enjoyed  his 
outing  with  the  boys.  He  was  pretending,  that 's  all, 
and  that  is  not  fair. 

The  Scouts'  organization  is  to  give  the  children 
a  chance  for  social  recreation  and  group  work.  They 
are  out  of  doors,  they  are  working  in  a  spirit  of 
friendly  competition  with  laughter  and  cheerfulness. 
The  adult's  activities  are  indoors  and  done  for  the 
pleasure  of  the  adult  himself. 

If  you  need  the  child's  help,  ask  for  it  and  let 
the  child  plan  for  it.  But  don't  snatch  it  and  then 
taunt  him  about  his  being  a  Scout.  The  Scouts  are 
all  right. 


FIFTY-FIFTY 

The  Carters  were  always  sure  that  the  children 
who  lived  next  door  were  about  the  most  mischie- 
vous and  the  most  annoying  children  imaginable. 
Not  content  with  being  as  naughty  as  they  wished 
to  be  themselves,  they  led  the  perfectly  good  Carter 
children  into  mischief.  Relations  between  the  two 
families  were  rapidly  becoming  strained  when  some- 
thing happened. 

Charlie  Carter  loved  animals.  The  more  dis- 
tressed or  the  more  abandoned  they  were  the  more 
they  appealed  to  him.  His  mother  was  constantly 
imploring  him  to  remove  some  derelict  from  under 
the  back  porch  or  out  of  the  cellar. 

**Just  wait  till  to-morrow,  mother.  Just  leave 
him  there  until  he  gets  a  leg  under  him.  Then  I  'm 
going  to  give  him  to  some  fellow  that'll  take  care 
of  him.  He 's  all  right.  He 's  a  thoroughbred  Great 
Dane.  Only  he's  got  a  few  things  the  matter  with 
him,  he  'd  be  a  prize  winner. ' ' 

Charlie  waged  a  continual  war  for  supplies  for 
his  charges.  Not  a  bone  stayed  over  night  in  the 
ice  box.  Martha  complained  she  never  got  a  good 
pot  of  soup.  Those  ravenous  creatures  got  all  her 
good  bones.  Wouldn't  Mrs.  Carter  speak  to  Mis- 
ter Charlie? 

Then  milk  became  very  scarce.  Sometimes  a 
whole  bottle  was  missing,  sometimes  half  of  one. 
The  next  door  neighbors  made  hints  about  children 
who  used  milk  that  didn  't  belong  to  them. 

120 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  121 

Mr.  Carter  was  angry  and  made  up  his  mind  that 
things  had  gone  pretty  far  when  a  neighbor  hinted 
that  his  children  would  use  milk  that  wasn't  their 
own.  Or  would  even  use  their  own  without  permis- 
sion. He  went  across  the  lawn  to  talk  to  his  neigh- 
bor about  it.  As  long  as  he  lives  he  will  be  grateful 
to  whatever  god  prevented  him  from  saying  all  that 
was  in  his  mind  that  afternoon. 

** Trouble  about  the  milk?"  murmured  his  neigh- 
bor mildly,  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes.  *'Yes,  a  little. 
You  see,  Carter,  those  kids  of  ours  are  taking  the 
milk  to  feed  their  stray  animals.  They  are  trying 
to  fatten  them  up  for  the  show  they  are  going  to 
give.  They  want  to  surprise  us.  They  are  going  to 
exhibit  these  wrecks  they  have  in  boxes  and  barrels 
out  on  the  swamp  lot  and  charge  admission  and  use 
the  money  for  a  S.  P.  C.  A. 

"I've  listened  to  them  planning  it  and  I  know 
that  they  take  the  milk  and  the  meat  bones.  I've 
said  nothing  about  it  because,  as  it's  your  son 
Charlie  that's  forming  the  S.  P.  C.  A.,  I  thought  you 
knew  more  about  it  than  I  did. 

* '  I  'm  ordering  some  extra  milk  and  donating  some 
dog  biscuit  in  the  hope  of  salvaging  some  of  my 
breakfasts  and  dinners." 

**Yes,  quite  so,"  said  Mr.  Carter.  ''To  be  sure, 
I  think  the  idea  should  be  encouraged  and  I  strolled 
over  to  see  what  you  thought  we  could  do  in  the 
matter.  We  might  help  them  out  a  little,  and  if  we 
had  a  village  fund  for  the  extermination  of  some  of 
the  most  helpless  animals  it  would  help,  too.  What 
say?" 

So  it  was.  Now,  it  may  be  the  children  next  door 
and  it  may  be  your  own.  I've  always  found  it  to 
be  fifty-fifty. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  FUIST 

**Coine  over  to  my  house  to-night  and  we'll  have 
some  fun." 

Can  your  children  say  that,  or  is  your  house  one 
of  the  sort  that  children  cannot  have  a  good  time  in? 

There  are  so  many  homes  that  are  just  houses. 
So  many  homes  where  children  must  be  seen  and 
not  heard.  The  children  who  live  in  them  must  go 
outside  to  find  the  fun  their  childish  spirits  demand. 
They  gather  on  the  comers  and  in  the  cheap  movies. 

Somebody  protests:  ''What  can  we  do  for  the 
children  in  the  evening?  We  have  been  working  all 
day  and  are  tired.  They  are  never  tired.  They  keep 
on  forever.    We  can't." 

No,  but  often  the  children  will  amuse  themselves 
if  you  give  them  an  opportunity.  Start  them  by 
giving  them  a  room  to  themselves  and  they  will  go 
ahead  and  give  you  little  trouble.  I've  known  chil- 
dren to  stand  about  the  piano  and  sing  for  two 
hours  and  then  go  cheerfully  to  bed. 

There  are  homes  where  the  children  roll  up  the 
rugs  and  start  the  music  and  dance  themselves 
weary.    They  have  a  ** gorgeous"  time. 

I've  seen  a  group  of  children  have  the  happiest 
kind  of  an  evening  just  by  trying  to  balance  a  book 
on  their  heads  and  do  "stunts,"  walking,  dancing, 
posturing  to  music,  sitting  down  and  rising  again, 
acting  a  simple  play. 

Their  posture  prevented  their  doing  anything 

122 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  123 

crude  and  they  stepped  as  lightly  as  feathers  rise 
and  fall.  The  grown  folks  sat  in  an  adjoining  room 
intent  upon  their  own  affairs,  serene  in  the  knowl- 
edge that  the  children  were  happy  and  safe. 

Eeading  aloud  from  some  favorite  book  helps  to 
pass  an  evening.  Playing  games  Hke  dominoes  and 
checkers  and  cards  will  always  help  out.  A  table 
drawer  full  of  such  games  ought  to  be  in  every  home 
where  there  are  children.  If  there  are  materials 
for  drawing  and  cutting  and  coloring,  they'll  come 
in  handy,  too. 

Then  there  is  the  great  field  of  dramatics.  Dress- 
ing up  and  staging  a  play  is  a  wonderful  thing  for 
children,  and  older  children,  too.  Think  of  the  fun 
of  preparing  it  and  rehearsing  and  costuming  and 
finally  giving  it  before  an  audience  of  friends  from 
whose  pockets  are  cajoled  quarters  and  dimes  for 
some  cause  dear  to  the  childish  hearts ! 

There  is  always  a  way  to  make  home  so  interest- 
ing, so  full  of  joy  and  happy  memories  that  where- 
ever  a  child  may  go,  no  matter  how  great  the  dis- 
tance that  lies  between  him  and  home,  his  heart 
is  pulled  toward  it. 

*'Come  over  to  my  house  and  have  some  fun." 
Can  your  children  say  that  ? 


VALENTINE'S   DAY 

It  is  the  day  of  sweethearts.  Little  pink,  candy- 
covered  ones  for  the  wee  folk,  and  pink  and  white 
other  kinds  for  the  grown  folk.  Still,  it's  the  day 
of  sweethearts,  which  ever  kind  you  have. 

Once  the  good  priest  Valentine  lived  in  the  world, 
and  he  loved  little  children.  He  loved  to  make 
pretty  things  that  opened  their  eyes  in  wonder. 
Then  he  liked  to  surprise  them  by  hanging  them  on 
their  door  latches  and  stealing  away  to  watch  their 
delight  from  his  hiding  place. 

When  the  old  priest  died,  his  memory  lived  on, 
as  is  the  way  with  all  those  who  love  other  people. 
The  children  tried  to  restore  their  friend  in  memory, 
and  on  his  birthday  they  went  about  and  hung  up 
the  pretty  baskets  of  flowers  and  said,  *'St.  Valen- 
tine sent  them."  Of  course,  they  hung  the  basket 
on  the  door  latch  of  some  one  they  liked  very  much. 
Wouldn't  you?  It  was  the  very  game  for  sweet- 
hearts. 

Flowers  and  little  baskets  to  hold  them  were  not 
easy  to  get  always,  nor  were  they  easy  to  send  to 
those  at  a  distance,  as  sweethearts  so  often  are.  But 
love  laughs  at  such  trifles.  The  sweethearts  made 
paper  valentines  and  put  pink  hearts,  all  tied  up  in 
knots  of  pink  ribbon,  on  them.  Pink  must  have 
been  St.  Valentine's  favorite  color. 

But  the  day  is  really  for  children.  Grown  people 
would  never  think  of  playing  so  childish  a  game. 

124 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  125 

Never.  Grown  folk  may  steal  what  comfort  they 
may  from  it,  but  the  children  are  the  ones  who  send 
the  valentines  to  their  sweethearts,  and  never  tell. 
That 's  the  fun.  The  secrets  and  the  whispering  and 
the  guessing.    And  the  telling  in  the  end. 

There  are  little  pink  cakes  that  belong  to  St.  Val- 
entine's Day.  No  home  that  holds  sweethearts 
should  be  without  them  on  the  14th  of  February. 
They  are  shaped  like  a  heart  and  have  the  names 
of  the  sweethearts  written  on  them  in  deeper  pink. 

It  doesn't  make  any  difference  if  you  get  the 
wrong  one,  because  you  will  know  it  in  a  minute  and 
pass  it  to  the  right  one,  and  some  one  else  will  find 
yours  and  give  it  to  you.  It's  all  such  fun,  and  it 
all  belongs  to  St.  Valentine. 

Of  course,  if  there  could  be  pink  candles  on  the 
table,  and  f  ringy,  lacy  valentines  at  each  plate,  and 
a  couple  of  the  very  youngest  and  best  sweethearts 
to  enjoy  it  all,  the  old  saint  would  like  it  immensely. 

Whatever  happens,  though,  don't  forget  to  honor 
him.  He's  a  very  important  old  saint  when  you 
come  to  think  about  him,  isn't  hel 


HALLOWEEN 

Halloween  is  a  party  occasion.  It  is  a  special 
night  on  the  children's  calendar.  You  sigh  and  say 
to  yourself  that  every  day  is  a  special  day  for  them, 
and  parties  for  children  mean  hard  work  for  adults. 

Quite  so.  But  the  home  parties  are  the  things  one 
must  cling  to  as  to  the  house  of  his  fathers.  The 
holiday  frolics,  each  with  its  special  observances, 
store  up  memories  and  form  ties  that  hold  the 
children  to  their  homes  as  nothing  else  can  ever  do. 

So  for  Halloween  there  must  be  a  party  for  the 
children,  and  you  can  come  along  too.  Children  love 
the  particular  ceremonies,  the  rites,  of  the  holiday. 
They  like  a  certain  repetition  in  their  good  times. 
They  love  the  familiar  things,  the  rich  associations 
that  make  the  heart  of  the  feast. 

I'm  thinking  of  a  Halloween  party  that  I  like. 
There  is  a  wee  clay  goblin  that  has  stood  in  the  place 
of  honor  on  the  dining  table  of  this  family  every 
Halloween  for  many,  many  years.  The  youngest 
child  in  the  house  places  him  there.  Children 
have  stood  that  faded  old  goblin  in  his  place  until 
it  has  become  a  treasured  family  relic. 

The  table  is  lighted  by  candles  hidden  in  orange- 
colored  Jack  o'  Lanterns.  There  is  a  set  of  dinner 
plates  decorated  with  witches  that  are  never  used 
except  upon  this  evening.  They  have  come  to  stand 
for  Halloween  and  the  family  reunion  in  the  minds 
of  the  children, 

126 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  127 

The  menu  is  always  the  same.  Roast  goose  burst- 
ing its  brown  skin  with  sage  and  onion  stuffing, 
boiled  potatoes  that  seem  to  be  powdered  with  snow 
so  mealy  are  they,  and  yellow  turnips  mashed  and 
piled  high  in  a  goose-shaped  dish.  And  there  is 
always  velvety  brown  gravy  to  pour  over  all. 

For  dessert,  nuts  served  in  quaint  wooden  bowls 
that  crossed  the  sea  with  the  fathers  and  mothers  of 
the  family.  There  used  to  be  queer  little  barrel- 
shaped  tumblers  full  of  sparkling,  golden  cider  to 
wash  down  the  nuts. 

After  dinner  the  candles  are  blown  out  and  wished 
on,  the  bright  lights  are  turned  on,  and  the  frolics 
begin. 

There  is  a  cake  with  a  ring  hidden  in  it  for  the 
bride  to  be,  and  a  thimble  for  the  spinster. 

There  is  a  plate  of  flour  in  the  pantry.  Hidden  in 
it  is  a  coin  that  the  children  try  to  find  with  their 
teeth. 

Out  in  the  flagged  kitchen  there  is  a  tub  full  of 
water  with  red  apples  bobbing  about  in  it,  and  you 
try  to  get  one  with  your  teeth. 

Somebody  plays  the  piano,  and  everybody  dances 
and  sings  until  twenty  minutes  of  twelve.  Then  the 
Sir  Roger  strikes  up  and  the  whole  family,  grand- 
fathers, mothers,  uncles,  and  aunts,  and  all  between, 
* '  stand  up  "  to  it. 

The  party  is  over.  The  faded  wee  goblin,  the 
witches'  plates,  the  quaint  little  bowls  are  put  away 
for  another  year  until  Halloween  comes  round  again. 

But  the  memories  of  it  last  and  become  family 
traditions.  You  know  they  are  what  make  "home,'^ 
and  *'home"  is  a  different  place  from  any  other  on 
earth.    It  is  where  our  hearts '  treasures  lie. 


FOEGET   IT  OFTEN 

God  was  very  good  to  us  when  He  let  us  forget. 
We  are  not  thankful  enough  for  the  privilege.  We 
do  not  use  it  half  enough.  We  are  always  trying  to 
remember  what  it  were  much  better  we  forgot. 

One  of  the  children  is  naughty  when  he  gets  up 
in  the  morning.  It  bothers  us  all  day.  Over  and 
over  we  remember  the  little  thing  he  did  to  vex  us 
and  forget  all  about  the  many  times  he  did  what 
pleased  us. 

The  boy  comes  in  from  school.  He  has  done  a  fine 
day's  work.  The  teacher  has  praised  him.  He  is 
anxious  to  tell  about  it.  He  thinks  his  mother  will 
be  pleased.  But  he  does  not  get  a  chance  to  tell 
about  it.  His  mother  has  remembered  his  disobedi- 
ence all  day.  Now  she  puts  his  misdeed  in  all  its 
blackness  before  him. 

She  forgets  nothing.  She  remembers  all  the 
wrong  things  he  has  ever  done.  One  calls  up 
another.  She  recites  them  all.  The  boy  is  deluged. 
He  is  stunned.  He  wonders  how  he  ever  came  to  be 
so  bad.  He  thinks  the  teacher  who  praised  him  to- 
day must  be  wrong.  He  begins  to  think  it  must 
have  been  some  other  boy  who  did  that  good  piece 
of  work.  It  could  not  be  he.  His  mother  has  proved 
that  beyond  a  shadow  of  doubt. 

His  mother  should  have  forgotten.  Most  of  the 
things  children  do  that  are  annoying  are  not  worth 

128 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  129 

speaking  about.  None  of  them  is  worth  remember- 
ing over  night.    Forget  them.    Overlook  them. 

I  knew  a  teacher  who  had  one  of  the  worst  cases  in 
the  district.  The  boy  had  a  bad  record  and  he  had 
earned  it.  Yet  this  teacher  kept  him  in  his  room  and 
taught  him  with  seemingly  little  effort. 

Most  of  the  time  he  looked  over  the  boy's  head. 
He  rarely  looked  at  the  boy. 

If  he  transgressed  he  let  him  understand  that  he 
had  seen  it  and  disapproved  without  centering  his 
attention  upon  him.  A  look  carried  the  message. 
He  made  a  brief  comment  when  he  did  well.  He 
made  none  when  he  did  ill. 

**You  do  not  talk  to  him,"  I  ventured. 

**No.  He  has  been  talked  to  until  he  is  callous. 
He  looks  for  it.  He  courts  it.  He  needs  silence. 
Forgetfulness.  I  overlook  him.  I  believe  in  telling 
children  only  about  the  things  that  are  worth  re- 
membering. Otherwise,  I  forget  and  I  let  them 
forget.  He  is  trying  to  do  something  that  I  will  con- 
sider worth  remembering." 

It  is  a  good  way  to  do  with  trou'^lesome  boys — 
and  girls,  too. 


THE  MAECHING  SONG 

The  class  was  listless.  They  moved  like  wooden 
dolls.  The  lessons  followed  each  other  in  sad,  mel- 
ancholy procession.  The  teacher  was  exhausted 
trying  to  drag  them  through  the  day's  program. 

The  music  teacher  came  in.  She  brought  a  little 
breeze  with  her.  It  rippled  her  hair  so  a  tiny  tendril 
of  it  escaped  and  waved  jauntily  over  one  ear. 

Her  feet  seemed  to  dance  over  the  floor  and  her 
smile  lighted  the  weary  faces  of  the  children.  They 
straightened  up  in  their  seats  and  smiled  back. 

''What  have  you  done  to  them?"  whispered  the 
teacher.  ''I've  had  a  dreadful  day.  IVe  literally 
pulled  against  their  dead-weight  since  early  morn- 
ing. You  come  in  and  they  sit  up  and  smile,  and  I 
feel  their  weight  rising  from  me.  How  did  you 
do  it?" 

'*I  do  that  for  myself  every  day.  You  see  I  pick 
out  a  good  marching  song  when  I  start  out  on  a  day 
like  this.  One  that  will  buoy  me  up  and  carry  me 
over  the  dark  spots  and  the  bumpy  places.  To-day 
I'm  working  to  the  'Humoresque'. 

''It's  a  fine  piece  of  music  to  carry  you  along  on 
such  days.  Try  it."  Then  she  turned  to  the  chil- 
dren and  gave  them  their  lesson.  There  was  no 
listlessness  now. 

Before  she  left  she  talked  to  the  class  and  the 
teacher.  "You  know  when  the  army  is  tired  the 
bands  play.   You  know  the  reason.   Music  is  as  good 

130 


THE  CHILD  IN  THE  HOME  131 

for  us  as  it  is  for  the  army.  Music  is  just  another 
language. 

"It  is  a  language  that  tells  its  story  of  sorrow,  or 
joy,  or  prayer,  or  curses,  or  inspiration  in  sounds 
instead  of  words.  It  suggests  thoughts  and  gives 
us  power  to  make  them  real  as  truly  as  any  words 
do.     Sometimes  it  speaks  more  truly  than  words. 

''When  you  are  tired  and  feel  that  you  cannot  go 
any  further  hum  to  yourself  the  trumpet  calls  in  the 
march  in  'Aida'.  You  will  find  them  lifting  you  up 
and  carrying  you  on  to  victory. 

''When  you  feel  things  going  against  you  sing  the 
melody  of  the  'Humoresque'.  It  will  send  jolly 
thrills  up  and  down  your  tired  backbone  and  you  will 
find  yourself  smiling  and  carrying  on. 

"Best  of  all,  pick  out  the  music  you  want  to  live 
by,  the  music  that  you  want  your  life  to  keep  step  to. 
The  grander  the  theme,  the  lighter  the  lilt,  the 
sweeter  the  melody,  the  better  your  life  will  be." 

Isn't  this  a  good  idea  for  mothers  to  practice  in 
the  home? 


PART  II 

SCHOOL:  CHILD,  TEACHER 
PARENT 


GETTING  READY  FOR  SCHOOL 

Have  you  a  child  that  you  expect  to  send  to  school 
in  September?  If  you  have,  will  you  please  get 
him  ready  now? 

First  have  the  best  doctor  for  children  that  you 
can  find  examine  him.  Have  him  weighed  and  meas- 
ured. Have  his  eyes  and  nose  and  throat  examined. 
Have  his  hearing  tested.  Please  do  this,  even  if  you 
are  sure  he  is  all  right. 

If  the  doctor  advises  treatment  for  him,  of  course 
you  will  see  that  he  gets  it. 

If  he  has  not  been  vaccinated  and  the  law  requires 
it,  as  it  does  in  New  York,  have  it  done  now. 

It  is  cruel  to  enter  a  child  in  school  and  then  have 
him  vaccinated.  He  is  sick.  His  arm  hurts.  In- 
stead of  being  in  the  best  possible  condition  to  begin 
the  greatest  experience  of  his  early  life,  he  is  unfitted 
at  the  start. 

A  vaccinated  arm  or  leg  is  likely  to  be  hurt  in  the 
playground  or  even  in  the  classroom.  Have  the  vac- 
cination out  of  the  way  before  the  child  begins  work 
in  the  fall. 

If  the  child  has  to  be  fitted  with  glasses,  have  it 
done  now.  The  child  needs  to  become  adjusted  to 
the  new  glasses.  He  cannot  wear  them  with  comfort 
for  some  time.  There  is  so  much  that  he  has  to 
meet  in  the  first  few  days  of  school  that  it  is  too 
bad  to  add  anything  to  it.  Let  him  have  time  to 
get  used  to  his  glasses. 

135 


136  CHILD  TRAINING 

Tonsils  that  are  too  big  or  diseased  should  be  re- 
moved under  the  expert  care  of  a  surgeon.  The 
child 's  health  is  dependent  upon  a  clean  throat.  The 
school  is  a  place  of  congregation — children  and 
germs,  germs,  germs.  All  the  neighborhood  germs 
gather  there.  A  clean  throat  will  go  far  toward  in- 
surance against  infection. 

Adenoids  should  not  be  tolerated.  They  are  a 
foreign  growth  and  can  only  do  harm.  They  are  a 
distinct  menace  to  the  growing  body  and  mind.  They 
make  the  most  intelligent  child  take  on  the  manner 
and  expression  of  the  imbecile.    Out  "svith  them. 

Collect  all  the  certificates  that  you  need  to  present 
for  entrance.  The  birth  certificate  is  a  helpful  docu- 
ment. If  you  cannot  present  one,  it  is  a  misfortune. 
Sometimes  the  baptismal  certificate  will  do  instead. 

Have  the  vaccination  certificate  properly  filled  out. 
It  should  set  forth  that  the  child  has  been  success- 
fully vaccinated.    Successfully. 

Then  put  the  papers  where  you  will  find  them 
again  in  September, 


GETTING  THEM  OFF  TO  SCHOOL 

Getting  the  children  ready  for  school  in  the  morn- 
ing is  a  real  piece  of  work.  After  it  is  well  done 
one  is  ready  to  sit  down  for  a  few  minutes '  rest. 

It  is  not  an  easy  task,  yet  it  must  be  well  done  if 
the  children  are  to  be  made  ready  for  school  in  the 
real  sense  of  readiness. 

Call  them  early,  so  there  will  be  plenty  of  time  for 
everything.  Hurrying  in  the  morning  is  bad  for  the 
nerves  of  the  children.    It  spoils  the  tone  of  the  day. 

They  must  be  well  washed  to  begin  with.  Teeth 
and  hair  and  nails  must  be  well  brushed. 

Be  sure  that  all  buttons  are  in  place  and  that  gar- 
ters are  in  good  order.  Children  suffer  more  from 
loose  buttons  and  broken  garters  than  grown  peo- 
ple have  any  idea  of.  A  little  girl  who  is  holding  up 
her  stocking  is  not  following  her  teacher.  She  is 
holding  her  stocking — and  her  breath. 

All  belts  are  loose  and  easy  if  the  child's  comfort 
is  considered.  Tight  bands  and  belts  stop  the  free 
circulation  of  blood  and  children  cannot  afford  the 
slightest  restriction  here.    One-piece  suits  are  best. 

Breakfast  should  be  on  time  and  all  the  children 
expected  to  sit  down  to  it  together.  Milk  and  cereal 
and  fruit  and  bread  and  butter  seem  to  meet  their 
needs,  and  their  approval,  generally. 

Each  puts  on  his  wraps,  gets  his  books,  and  pre- 
pares to  start  off.  Draw  the  little  boy  aside  and 
whisper  as  you  pat  his  tie  into  place.    **Be  careful 

137 


138  CHILD  TRAINING 

to-day,  son.  "Watch  the  teacher  and  do  what  she 
says.  That's  the  way  to  grow  into  a  good  man  like 
father.  Learn  something  fine  to-day  and  tell  me 
about  it  to-night.  I'll  be  waiting  to  hear  what  you 
have  found  for  me." 

Hug  little  daughter  to  you.  Put  her  hat  on  with 
the  right  touch.  Pat  her  lovingly  and  tell  her  to 
*' Study  hard  to-day.  Don't  talk  to  your  neighbors. 
Be  sure  to  have  something  good  to  tell  father  to- 
night. He  will  ask  you  what  happened  to-day  and 
you  will  want  to  have  good  news  for  him. ' ' 

Send  them  out  with  something  to  go  for  and  some- 
thing to  come  back  for.  So  you  tie  home  to  the 
school  and  school  to  the  home.  Both  gain  new  values 
in  the  eyes  and  minds  of  the  children. 


THE  FIRST  DAY  IN  SCHOOL 

You  are  sending  your  child  to  school  for  the  first 
time.  You  are  dreading  it  all  exceedingly.  You 
want  the  child  to  start  his  school  education,  but  you 
hate  to  have  him  leave  you. 

You  think  it  will  be  fine  to  be  free  from  his  de- 
mands for  the  hours  he  spends  in  school.  But  fast 
on  the  heels  of  that  thought  come  the  others. 

Perhaps  the  teacher  will  not  be  kind  to  him. 
Perhaps  he  will  be  thirsty  and  she  will  not  let  him 
have  a  drink.  Perhaps  the  children  will  not  be  nice 
to  him.    Maybe  he  will  miss  you  and  cry. 

If  you  worry  about  these  things  you  will  show 
your  fear  to  the  child  and  to  the  teacher.  The 
teacher  will  not  be  pleased  to  know  that  you  think 
she  will  not  take  good  care  of  the  child.  She  will. 
She  has  been  trained  to  do  that  very  thing. 

She  will  see  that  he  gets  a  drink  and  she  will  see 
that  he  is  comfortable  in  every  other  way.  She  will 
not  "baby"  him,  though.  She  will  show  him  his 
seat  and  give  him  his  lesson  and  expect  him  to  fit 
into  the  scheme  of  the  classroom. 

There  is  nothing  in  that  scheme  that  need  alarm 
the  most  timid  mother.  The  teacher  knows  exactly 
what  the  first  day's  work  should  be  and  she  knows 
how  it  should  be  done.  Leave  it  to  her.  Show  her 
that  you  have  faith  in  her. 

You  can't  blame  the  teacher  who  glares  you  out 
of  the  room  if  you  insist  upon  seating  yourself  beside 

139 


140  CHILD  TRAINING 

your  child  on  an  eighteen-inch  bench  nine  inches 
from  the  floor  in  order  that  you  may  see  that  the 
teacher  does  her  work  properly  that  morning  and 
does  nothing  that  might  upset  your  child.  The 
teacher  of  the  baby  class  has  enough  trouble  on  her 
mind  and  in  her  hands  without  a  dozen  tearful 
mothers  sitting  and  standing  about  the  room  sug- 
gesting worry  and  fear  to  the  children. 

Leave  the  child  with  the  teacher  and  go  away 
cheerfully.  Keep  out  of  the  classroom.  Try  to  be- 
have as  though  sending  a  child  to  school  for  the  first 
time  was  something  that  you  had  done  every  day 
of  your  life.    Just  a  matter  of  course. 

That  will  make  the  child  feel  that  going  to  school 
is  an  ordinary  and  natural  thing  to  do.  It  will  save 
his  nerves  and  free  his  mind  for  the  work  of  the  day. 

Whatever  you  do,  don't  stand  at  the  classroom 
door  and  throw  kisses  and  sob  brokenly:  **Good-by, 
dear.    Mother  will  be  so  lonesome.'* 


YOUE  CHILD  AND  YOUR  DEEAMS 

Why  do  you  sen,d  your  boy  to  school? 

The  first  idea  that  comes  to  your  mind  is  the 
dream  you  weave  for  him  as  you  sit  thinking  about 
him  at  the  end  of  the  day. 

You  are  giving  him  opportunities  and  advantages 
that  you  never  had.  You  expect  him  to  realize  more 
of  his  dream  than  you  ever  realized  of  yours. 

He  is  to  be  a  successful,  honored  citizen. 

That  is  a  long  way  off.  He  is  so  young  yet!  A 
chill  of  dread  creeps  over  you.  Will  he  have  the 
strength  of  soul,  the  strength  of  body,  the  strength 
of  mind,  to  carry  him  through  the  struggle  and  bring 
him  out  a  success — an  honored  citizen? 

You  hope  so.  You  hope  so  with  all  your  heart. 
You  hope  it  so  fiercely  that  you  forget  all  the  other 
things — power,  money,  social  prestige.  He  must  be 
a  man,  regardless  of  all  else. 

Surely,  you  plead  with  yourself,  here  the  school 
will  lead.  The  principal,  and  the  superintendent, 
and  the  teacher,  and  the  Board  of  Education  all 
have  the  same  end  in  view.  That  is  their  purpose  in 
educating  this  boy.  The  school  will  send  him  out 
strong  in  the  determination  to  live  up  to  the  best 
that  is  in  him.    Why  else  are  schools? 

Have  you  told  the  teacher  that  your  purpose 
agrees  with  hers  ?  That  you  are  lending  every  effort 
toward  realizing  this  purpose  for  your  son  ?  Better 
call  at  the  school  and  tell  her.    She  might  not  feel  so 

141 


142  CHILD  TRAINING 

discouraged  if  she  knew  that  you  were  helping 
toward  the  same  end. 

Little  boys  are  likely  to  tarry  long  in  the  *  *  tadpole 
stage,"  and  it  takes  great  faith  and  patience  to 
watch  and  direct  their  development.  Swap  stories 
with  the  teacher.  She  knows  your  boy.  Her  experi- 
ence wiU  lighten  your  task,  and  your  interest  will 
lighten  the  teacher 's.  She  will  take  a  keener  interest 
in  your  particular  ''tadpole"  if  she  thinks  you  are 
helping  from  your  side. 

What  about  the  little  boy's  purpose?  Be  assured 
of  one  thing  in  this  uncertain  and  trying  task — ^it  is 
the  boy's  purpose  that  is  going  to  count  the  most. 

If  ever  he  is  to  realize  the  dream  that  you  hide  in 
your  secret  heart,  his  purpose,  and  your  purpose, 
and  the  teacher's  purpose  must  keep  step.  The  com- 
bined force  can  make  anything  come  true. 


THE  SCHOOL'S  JOB 

The  school  should  turn  out  boys  and  girls  who  can 
think.  Children  who  can  think  quickly,  accurately, 
intelligently. 

They  should  be  able  to  make  up  their  minds  and 
hold  fast  to  a  decision  until  it  is  proved  to  be  wrong. 
A  blow-with-the-wind  is  useless. 

They  should  be  able  and  willing  to  do  a  bit  of  work 
thoroughly  and  to  stay  with  it  to  a  clean  finish. 
Clock-workers  are  a  nuisance. 

They  should  be  cheerful  and  good-mannered. 
Gloomy  faces,  discontented  murmurings,  disagree- 
able and  thoughtless  actions,  boorishness,  are  be- 
neath any  self-respecting  child. 

They  should  be  good  to  look  at.  That  has  nothing 
to  do  with  painted  faces  and  messy  hair.  Nobody 
ever  said  that  they  were  good  to  look  at.  No  more 
are  flashy  clothes,  including  loud  ties  and  brilliant 
socks.  A  clean  skin,  a  free-limbed,  healthy  body, 
glowing  eyes,  and  shining  white  teeth  are  within  the 
reach  of  every  healthy  child. 

They  should  be  reserved  enough  not  to  gossip. 
The  young  person  whose  mind  is  messed  up  with 
trivialities,  whose  tongue  prattles  of  petty  person- 
alities, is  never  going  to  pass  the  barriers  set  up  to 
guard  the  elect. 

They  should  be  able  to  read  and  write  their  lan- 
guage clearly.   They  should  be  in  command  of  a  fine 

143 


144  CHILD  TRAINING 

voice  and  a  nice  speech.  The  slang  and  inelegancies 
of  the  playground  should  be  left  there. 

They  should  be  able  to  use  numbers  within  their 
experience ;  keep  a  simple  set  of  accounts  and  under- 
stand the  use  and  values  of  a  bank  account.  They 
should  know  what  living  within  their  incomes  means. 

They  should  appreciate  the  beauty  and  the  place 
of  silence. 

Reading  this  over,  you  think  that  this  is  not  too 
much  to  ask  of  a  good  school.  It  is  not  too  much 
to  ask  of  an  American  child  trained  in  a  good  home 
and  drilled  in  a  good  school. 

WiU  you  please  check  up  about  ten  graduates  of 
your  elementary  schools  and  find  out  where  they 
stand? 

Then  you  will  know  whether  your  education  is 
functioning  or  not.  If  it  is,  you  are  to  be  congratu- 
lated, thanked,  and  cheered.  If  it  isn't  then  you  are 
in  the  same  place  as  the  rest  of  us  and  are  to  be 
shaken  up  and  talked  to  and  admonished  like  this: 

When  did  you  visit  your  school  last?  What  did 
you  look  for  and  what  did  you  see  ? 

What  sort  of  teachers  have  you?  How  much  do 
you  pay  them?  Why  don't  you  pay  them  more? 
How  many  children  do  you  ask  each  of  them  to  teach 
at  one  time? 

What  are  the  sanitary  conditions  of  your  school? 
Your  medical  and  nursing  inspection? 

How  much  have  you  increased  your  educational 
budget  in  the  last  three  years?  What  new  equip- 
ment have  you  put  in? 

Remember,  you  won't  get  much  more  out  of  your 
school  than  what  you  put  into  it.  The  teachers  are 
ready.   Are  you? 


IS  IT  A  GOOD  SCHOOL? 

How  do  you  know  when  your  school  is  a  good  one  ? 
How  do  you  know  when  it  is  teaching  your  child  to 
grow — giving  him  a  chance  to  find  himself! 

If  the  school  is  a  good  one  the  child  will  show  his 
happiness  in  being  part  of  it.    He  will  talk  about  it 

enthusiastically.     **The  teacher  said "     *'The 

principal  said "    ''The  Janitor  did "    '*The 

kids  thought "  will  be  poured  out  upon  you  in  a 

torrent  of  '*ands",  ''somes",  "0  boys",  and  "So 
far  so  good". 

He  will  have  a  message  from  the  school  every 
night.  Sometimes  it  will  be  his  regulation  lessons, 
nothing  more.  The  lessons  will  tell  their  own  story 
if  you  care  to  read  it  in  them. 

The  good  lesson  will  be  brief  and  pointed,  the  child 
will  know  exactly  what  is  expected  of  him,  and  he 
will  set  about  doing  it,  sure  of  himself  and  happy  in 
his  confidence. 

The  school  will  speak  to  you  in  its  outside  activi- 
ties. The  child  will  want  to  belong  to  the  "Hikers" 
or  the  ' '  Dancing  Club ' '.  The  boy  will  ask  for  money 
to  pay  his  dues  on  his  team  and  the  girl  will  want 
tickets  for  the  plays  her  class  is  going  to  see. 

Help  them  here  generously.  The  sane  use  of 
leisure  time  is  a  great  gift  to  the  children.  It  will  far 
outlast  the  material  gifts  that  you  can  bestow.  It's 
a  good  sign  when  the  school  reaches  out  and  teaches 
the  children  this. 

145 


146  CHILD  TRAINING 

The  school  speaks  to  you  in  the  conduct  of  the 
children  at  home.  They  become  less  troublesome 
and  use  more  self-control.  You  find  yourself  giving 
fewer  directions  and  having  those  carried  out  much 
more  accurately.  The  children  plan  their  days 
better  and  respond  to  suggestions  more  readily. 
The  discipline  is  sane  and  healthy.  Your  school 
knows  how  to  train  children.  Back  it  up  with  your 
approval  and  encouragement. 

You  find  the  children  are  interested  in  things  that 
you  did  not  dream  they  knew  about.  They  exhibit 
a  healthy  curiosity.  They  know  who  Lloyd  George 
is,  and  they  want  to  know  what  you  think  of  his  Irish 
policy.  They  ask  about  the  Treaty.  They  want  to 
know  about  the  bill  before  Congress  that  helps 
mothers  and  little  children. 

The  school  is  speaking  to  you  again.  It  is  trying 
to  train  for  good  citizenship  and  hopes  for  your 
assistance,  and  why  not !  America  needs  thoughtful, 
questioning,  earnest  citizens.  Help  the  school  along. 
Read  the  papers  to  the  children  and  explain  things 
to  them. 

You'll  be  sure  the  school  is  good  when  the  children 
beg  you  to  go  and  visit  it  and  see  what  they  are 
doing,  when  they  speak  of  the  people  in  it  with 
love  and  respect  as  though  they  were  friends  they 
were  proud  of  having  and  wished  you  to  have  too. 

If  these  signs  are  showing,  yours  is  a  good  school. 
If  they  are  not,  it  would  be  well  to  inquire  just  what 
was  going  on  there  and  try  to  make  it  the  sort  of 
place  you  want  for  your  children  to  grow  in. 


THE  PLAYGROUND 

The  playground  is  the  place  where  the  child 
expects  to  have  the  real  time.  That  is  the  place  he 
calls  his  own.  He  expects  to  live  there  with  his 
mates.  That  means  to  play,  to  shout,  to  laugh  and 
dance  and  sing  and  spin  about  as  the  spirit  of  child- 
hood moves  him. 

You  who  went  to  school  in  the  country  had  such  a 
playground.  There  was  a  clump  of  trees  where  the 
girls  sat  and  crocheted  never-ending  chains.  Some- 
times a  little  boy  sat  among  them  and  knitted  varie- 
gated worsted  horselines  through  a  pickle  cork  set 
around  with  bristling  pins. 

Out  in  the  middle  of  the  yard  was  the  strip  of 
gravel,  where  the  restless  souls  played  tag  and  bean 
bag  and  prisoner's  base.  Around  the  comer  of  the 
building  was  a  clump  of  scraggly  shrubbery,  where 
the  little  fellows  played  hide  and  seek. 

In  a  retired  corner,  in  the  fence  angle,  the  little 
girls  played  their  singing  games.  Eound  and  round 
they  went  chanting  like  a  merry-go-round. 

Down  the  lot  the  boys  played  ball.  The  little  boys 
were  shooed  off  here  until  they  were  old  enough  to 
belong  to  the  Third  Reader.  Each  to  his  own  place 
on  the  playground,  the  democracy  of  childhood. 
The  teacher  did  not  appear.  Woe  betide  the  one 
who  appealed  from  the  playground's  decision. 

Once  a  year  the  teacher  appeared,  and  then  it  was 
by  special  invitation.    The  first  ride  on  the  bob-sled 

147 


148  CHILD  TRAINING 

was  by  right  and  precedent  the  teacher's.  The  hill 
was  packed,  tested,  and  pronounced  ready.  The  Big 
Boy  went  for  the  teacher,  while  the  steerer  proudly 
held  the  monster  in  leash.  All  the  little  sleds  lined 
up  in  the  rear  to  follow  as  the  escort  of  honor. 

The  teacher  came,  muffled  and  smiling.  Away 
they  went.  Hurrah !  Everybody  rode  blithely  to  the 
bottom  of  the  hill  and  trudged  back,  each  according 
to  his  disposition.    But  it  was  fun.    Real  fun. 

Where  do  the  children  of  the  city  play?  Nobody 
seems  to  have  made  any  provision  for  them.  The 
builders  build  to  the  line.  There  is  no  foot  of  space 
left  for  the  children.  School  or  home,  it  is  about  the 
same.  No  room  for  the  child 's  chief  business  in  life 
—play. 

Land  is  so  scarce  and  so  high.  There  is  the 
gymnasium  and  the  little  patch  of  asphalt.  The 
children  must  get  along  with  those.  And  they  must 
not  make  too  much  noise.  They  will  disturb  some- 
body. They  must  use  the  gymnasium  and  the  play- 
grounds with  discretion.  Discretion  and  play.  It 
cannot  be  done. 

A  school  without  a  good  playground  is  no  school ! 


THE  UNWOETHY  SCHOOL 

You  would  imagine  that  school  buildings  would  be 
the  most  attractive  of  all  buildings.  You  would 
think  that  the  house  the  people  built  for  their  chil- 
dren would  be  beautiful  within  and  without.  You 
would  be,  for  the  most  part,  wrong. 

All  over  the  country  little,  stingy,  white-faced, 
staring  buildings  dot  the  villages.  Ugly  does  not 
express  it.  The  playgrounds  are  equally  pitiful. 
Many  of  them  are  strips  of  dirt  that  send  up  clouds 
of  choking  dust  in  the  clear  weather  and  sink  into 
messy  puddles  when  it  rains. 

Inside  things  are  little  better.  The  benches  are 
the  type  used  before  the  Civil  War.  Hard,  stiff,  un- 
comfortable things  screwed  down  to  the  floor,  lest 
some  one  in  wrath  at  their  unbending  stiffness  hurl 
them  out  of  the  place. 

The  walls  are  dusty  and  dirty,  marked  by  the 
soiled  hands  of  a  generation.  Paint  has  not  touched 
them  since  they  were  built  years  ago. 

Things  are  not  so  in  the  cities,  you  think.  Have 
you  inspected  your  own  school  building  since  you 
sent  your  children  there  ?  If  you  have,  you  will  feel 
that  really  something  ought  to  be  done  about  some- 
thing. 

Children  and  teachers  are  crowded  into  ill-lighted, 
ill-ventilated  rooms.  There  are  classrooms  in  some 
of  our  proudest  cities  that  are  lighted  with  artificial 
lights  on  the  sunniest  days  of  the  year. 

There  are  schools  set  in  neighborhoods  that  are 

149 


150  CHILD  TRAINING 

bedlams  of  noise.  Factory  noises,  street  cars  grind- 
ing, motor  trucks  thundering,  and  screeching  trains 
crashing  by  make  study  impossible. 

There  are  schools  where  the  toilets  are  unsanitary. 
There  are  schools  where  there  are  not  adequate 
accommodations  for  washing  one 's  hands.  There  is 
not  enough  sink  space,  there  are  no  towels,  no  soap. 

There  are  school  buildings  that  fairly  cry  out  for 
scrubbing  brushes  and  soda  and  boiling  water.  And 
paint.  And  cement.  And  plaster.  And  the  wreck- 
ing crew. 

There  are  schools  that  are  too  cold  in  winter  and 
too  warm  in  summer.    This  need  not  be  so. 

Did  you  ever  see  a  school  with  awnings  ?  I  wonder 
why  not.  Why  cannot  the  hot  afternoon  sun  be  shut 
out  of  the  schoolroom  as  well  as  out  of  the  houses 
and  apartments?  The  weary,  perspiring  children 
and  teachers  ask,  *'Why  not?"  The  gain  in  work 
accomplished  would  soon  pay  for  the  awnings. 

Why  do  people  tolerate  conditions  in  their  schools 
that  they  would  not  tolerate  in  their  homes  ? 

Mothers  on  Club  Committees,  this  is  a  message  for 
you.  Is  your  school  worthy  of  its  children?  Do  you 
know  what  condition  your  school  building  is  in? 
Will  you  make  it  your  business  to  know? 


SCHOOL  STANDARDS 

To  You  Who  Send  Your  Children  to  Private 
Schools : 

You  are  a  good  American  citizen.  You  have  a 
secure  place  in  business  and  society.  You  have 
''succeeded."  You  are  respected  in  your  neighbor- 
hood. You  think  seriously  and  solicitously  about 
your  children. 

When  they  became  of  school  age  you  and  their 
mother  began  searching  about  for  the  best  school  for 
them.  You  wanted  your  children  to  have  the  very 
best  education  the  country  afforded.  You  wanted 
them  to  have  the  best  teachers.  The  children  must 
have  fine  associations.  Their  manners,  their  code, 
their  tastes  must  be  formed  by  the  highest  type  of 
men  and  women  and  children. 

The  school  for  your  child  must  be  planted  in  a 
pleasant  place.  You  wanted  your  school  to  sit 
among  the  trees  with  its  feet  in  the  grass.  Its  eyes 
must  look  out  upon  the  wide  serenity  of  the  sky. 
The  soul  of  your  school  must  be  pure,  and  sweet, 
and  lofty. 

Your  school  had  to  have  a  fine  equipment.  You 
demanded  light,  airy  rooms,  a  wide  gymnasium, 
studios  for  the  arts,  a  library,  shops  where  the  chil- 
dren might  use  their  ever-abounding  energy  in 
making  the  things  they  longed  to  make. 

It  had  to  have  a  playground  big  enough  and  clean 
enough  for  your  children  to  play  freely,  play  with 

151 


152  CHILD  TRAINING 

all  their  might.  There  had  to  be  the  swimming  pool, 
and  refreshing  shower  baths,  so  they  might  be  com- 
fortably clean  after  their  hard  play. 

You  were  very  particular  about  the  protection 
against  contagion.  You  made  searching  inquiries 
about  the  admission  of  children,  their  health  inspec- 
tion, their  care. 

You  scanned  the  rolls  of  the  school.  The  children 
who  were  to  be  the  friends  of  your  children  must 
be  of  the  right  sort.  You  were  going  to  be  reason- 
ably certain  that  they  came  from  homes  that  had 
standards  of  good  breeding  and  right  living. 

You  searched  for  months  for  this  school.  You  did 
not  find  it.  It  is  too  perfect  for  this  stage  of  civiliza- 
tion. You  had  to  take  the  next  best  thing  that 
offered.  You  finally  sent  them  there  with  a  prayer 
that  the  God  who  watches  over  little  children  would 
guard  them  from  evil  and  lead  them  toward  good. 

Now,  I  'm  not  saying  a  word  against  your  trying  to 
find  a  good  school  for  your  children.  You  would  not 
be  worthy  of  the  children  if  you  did  not. 

I  only  want  to  ask  you  this  question :  *  *  Can  you  as 
a  good  citizen  of  these  United  States  feel  that  you 
have  done  your  whole  duty  to  the  country  you  love 
if  you  permit  the  public  schools  to  fall  below  the 
standards  of  what  you  consider  a  good  school  for 
your  children?" 

It  is  written:  ** Without  vision  the  people  perish." 


YOUE  NEIGHBOR'S  CHILD 

I  couldn't  seem  to  get  my  friend  the  lawyer  to 
take  the  warm  interest  in  the  school  budget  that  I 
expected  of  him.  I  declaimed  against  any  reduc- 
tions. 

It  meant  shortage  of  teachers.  It  meant  shutting 
down  the  swimming  pools  and  shops.  It  meant 
cheaper  supplies  and  less  of  them.  It  meant  lessen- 
ing the  service  to  the  children.  I  grew  heated 
about  it. 

My  friend  sat  stolidly  through  my  harangue.  Not 
a  word  from  him.  ''What's  the  matter  with  you?" 
I  broke  out.  "Haven't  you  any  interest  in  the 
schools?    Don't  you  care?" 

''Oh,  yes,"  he  drawled:  *'I'm  interested.  I  pay 
taxes  for  them.  But  you  see  I  send  my  children  to 
a  private  school.  Naturally  I  don't  take  the  same 
interest  in  the  public  school  that  you  do  or  that  the 
people  whose  children  go  to  them  do." 

"Don't  be  so  sure  that  your  interest  in  the  public 
school  is  so  limited,"  I  retorted.  "You  have  two 
children.  They  are  going  to  live  in  this  neighbor- 
hood for  the  best  years  of  their  lives.  You  can't 
have  a  group  of  wild  children  in  your  neighborhood 
without  affecting  your  own. 

"That  flat  of  yours  isn't  a  convent.  You  can*t 
close  your  children  from  the  world.  Your  daughter 
will  probably  marry  the  boy  down  the  block  and 

153 


154  CHILD  TRAINING 

your  son  will  likely  marry  the  girl  that  lives  around 
the  comer. 

**The  probabilities  are,  my  friend,  that  your 
daughter-in-law  and  son-in-law  are  sitting  in  the 
benches  of  the  public  school." 

** Don't  talk  such  rot,"  he  growled. 

*' You  are  a  public  school  boy  yourself,"  I  growled 
back,  **and  your  wife  attended  the  Select  Young 
Ladies'  School.    How  about  that?" 

He  went  home.  I  hope  he  wasn't  offended,  but  I 
intended  to  disturb  him. 

That  boy  next  door  and  the  girl  concerns  every 
father  and  mother  and  every  taxpayer. 

You  cannot  have  a  bad  child  close  to  good  children 
without  effect.  The  poorly  taught  child  has  to 
repeat  his  grade.  The  taxpayer  pays  for  him  twice. 
Why  not  pay  for  the  work  in  the  first  place  and  get 
what  was  paid  for! 

The  child  that  is  badly  taught  anywhere  concerns 
you.  He  arrives  in  your  town  and  your  school  one 
day  and  you  have  to  make  good  for  the  discrepancies 
of  the  other  town  as  well  as  for  our  own. 

Cheap  education  is  dear  at  any  price. 


^^THESE  CHILDREN" 

Every  parent  should  measure  the  school  in  terms 
of  his  own  children.  The  school  is  good  or  bad  as  it 
serves  his  particular  child.  It  may  be  good  for  one 
and  not  for  another. 

Have  you  measured  your  school  that  way? 

A  woman  who  had  lived  in  this  country  a  short 
time  entered  the  school  in  one  of  the  most  congested 
districts  of  a  big  city. 

**I  want  to  register  my  children  here,"  she  said. 
**I  have  come  to  this  country  to  give  them  an  edu- 
cation. 

"They  cannot  speak  a  word  of  English,  but  they 
are  good  children  and  bright.  Please  do  what  you 
can  for  them.  I  want  to  have  them  well  educated. 
I  live  only  for  these  children." 

This  school,  like  many  of  its  kind,  wa^  over- 
crowded. The  teacher  had  more  than  fifty  children 
to  teach  at  a  time.  This  meant  that  often  the  slow 
child  got  no  chance  to  recite  during  a  lesson. 

The  longest  lesson  period  cannot  last  over  forty 
minutes.  Try  to  spread  those  forty  minutes  over 
fifty  children  learning  to  read  and  you  will  under- 
stand what  happens  in  the  crowded  classes. 

Then  picture  the  lot  of  the  foreign-speaking  child. 
He  knows  not  a  word  that  is  spoken  by  those  about 
him.  He  cannot  make  himself  understood.  The 
teacher  has  little  time  for  his  troubles.  Pretty  tight 
place  for  a  child,  now,  isn't  it? 

155 


156  CHILD  TRAINING 

After  the  foreign  woman's  children  had  been  in 
the  school  about  a  year  she  visited  the  principal. 

"You  have  been  very  good.  The  children  like 
school  and  they  have  made  good  progress  when  you 
consider  everything.  But  it  is  not  good  enough ;  it  is 
not  rich  enough ;  it  is  too  slow. 

* *I  want  my  children  to  be  leaders.  I  want  them  to 
have  initiative.  I  want  them  to  have  a  chance  to 
reach  out.  They  cannot  have  this  in  such  a  crowded 
school. 

**I  have  gone  into  business.  So  far  I  have  made 
good.  The  money  I  make  I  am  going  to  use  to  send 
my  children  to  good  schools.  I  am  sending  my  oldest 
one  to-day.  Next  year  I  shall  start  the  younger  one. 
It  costs  money,  but  that  is  what  I  am  earning  it  for. ' ' 

True  to  her  word,  she  took  the  younger  one  out 
the  next  year. 

"They  are  going  to  a  good  school.  Just  think  of 
it.  There  are  only  five  children  in  a  group.  What 
cannot  the  teachers  do  for  them  ?  Your  teachers  are 
good,  but  they  get  no  chance  with  such  large 
classes." 

The  best  school  for  the  people's  children  is  the 
best  school  that  the  best  parents  demand  for  their 
children. 

Does  your  school  measure  up?    Why  not? 


THE  I.  Q. 

Parents  are  asking,  ''What  is  the  Intelligence 
Quotient?  What  does  it  mean?  If  it  is  high,  am  I 
to  be  elated?    If  it  is  low,  am  I  to  cast  down?" 

I  would  say  that,  in  either  case,  better  be  calm. 
The  Intelligence  Test  and  the  Intelligence  Quotient  is 
a  new  way  of  putting  something  that  you  have  been 
familiar  with  since  childhood. 

It  is  the  old  examination  in  a  new  form.  Children 
are  rated  and  graded  upon  it  as  you  were  rated  and 
graded  under  the  old  examination  system.  But  we 
hope  that  this  new  way  is  going  to  be  more  accurate 
and  more  impersonal.  We  are  not  sure  about  it  yet. 
We  are  feeling  our  way.    So  be  calm. 

If  the  Intelligence  Quotient  is  low,  better  go  and 
see  the  teacher  and  find  out  what  she  thinks  ought  to 
be  done  to  raise  it.  If  it  is  high,  call  on  her  and  ask 
in  what  way  the  child  excels  and  plan  out  a  course 
of  instruction  and  training  that  will  develop  him 
fully  and  sanely. 

Whatever  you  do,  don't  look  upon  an  I.  Q.  as  fixing 
your  child's  position  in  relation  to  his  life  work  or  to 
his  mates.  Nothing  is  ever  fixed  that  concerns  a 
child.  I.  Q.'s  are  but  indications,  sign  posts  to  guide 
wise  teachers  and  parents.    They  settle  nothing. 

This  is  the  way  we  get  an  Intelligence  Quotient : 
We  accept  as  a  standard  certain  experiences  as  com- 
mon to  all  children  of  a  certain  age,  just  as  you  do 
when  you  say,  ''Any  intelligent  boy  of  seven  knows 

157 


158  CHILD  TRAINING 

that  snow  will  chill  him  and  that  heat  will  warm 
him." 

The  child  is  tested  on  such  graded  experiences  and 
is  allowed  to  go  through  the  series  until  he  can  go  no 
further.  Say  he  is  seven  years  old  and  that  he 
travels  through  the  tests  until  he  completes  the  nine- 
year-old 's  standard.  Then  he  indicates  that  he  can 
do  no  more. 

We  say  his  Mental  Age  is  nine  and  that  his  Chron- 
ological Age  is  seven.  To  find  the  Intelligence 
Quotient  upon  which  we  grade  him,  we  express  the 
relation  of  his  Mental  Age  to  his  Chronological  Age 
as  9 :7,  which  results  in  the  Intelligence  Quotient  of 
1.29.  In  writing  it  and  talking  about  it  we  say  129, 
omitting  the  decimal  point. 

If  the  child  went  through  the  test  completing  his 
own  year,  seven,  of  course  he  had  an  I.  Q.  of  100, 
or  Normal. 

If  he  completed  the  five-year  standard  and  could 
go  no  further  he  had  an  I.  Q.  of  71,  which  means  that 
he  did  71  per  cent  of  the  standard  work  for  his 
Chronological  Age. 

Don't  worry  because  your  children  are  being 
tested  and  graded.  Welcome  such  a  test.  It  is  a 
fairly  accurate  measurement  of  the  children 's  condi- 
tion. It  will  point  the  way  for  intelligent  instruction 
and  guidance. 

But  remember  to  consult  the  teacher.  The 
teacher's  judgment  is  to  be  given  consideration  equal 
to  that  of  any  test.  She  lives  with  the  child  and  she 
knows  his  purpose  and  his  will  power.  No  test  has 
been  devised  to  measure  these.  But  the  teacher 
knows. 


AHEAD  OF  HIS  CLASS 

**I  don't  want  to  go  to  school  any  more,"  an- 
nounced Herbert,  thumping  his  books  on  the  table. 

**Why,  Herbert,  what's  the  trouble?  You,  of  all 
children,  saying  you  don't  want  to  go  to  school! 
What  ails  you?" 

''It's  too  poky.  It's  too  stupid.  I  won't  go  any 
more.    Send  me  to  some  other  place." 

''What's  happened?" 

"Nothing.  Nothing  ever  happens.  It's  the  same 
thing  over  and  over  until  I  get  so  sick  of  it  I  can't 
stand  it.  I've  been  all  through  my  history  book  and 
I  know  every  word  of  it,  and  I  have  to  keep  going 
over  it  for  the  whole  term.  I've  got  to  wait  until 
Fritz  Freeder  knows  it  before  I  can  go  ahead,  and 
he'll  never  know  it. 

' '  To-day  the  teacher  heard  the  class  say  the  Penin- 
sula Campaign  and  nobody  knows  it  except  a  few. 
She  said,  'Take  out  your  books  and  study  it.  I 
won't  let  you  go  a  step  further  until  you  know  it, 
every  one  of  you. ' 

"I  know  it  by  heart,  and  I  turned  over  to  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  and  was  studying  that, 
because  Dad  said  he'd  give  me  a  dollar  when  I  could 
say  it.  She  came  down  the  aisle  and  took  my  book 
away  and  made  me  write  the  Peninsula  Campaign 
from  memory,  just  to  keep  with  the  class.  Why 
can't  I  do  something  else  when  I  know  the  stuff 
the  class  is  doing?     Why  do  I  have  to  wait  for 

159 


160  CHILD  TRAINING 

Fritzie  ?  He  won 't  ever  know  it  if  she  keeps  him  at 
it  for  a  thousand  years.    Why  can't  I  go  on?" 

''Why  can't  he?"  asked  his  mother  of  the  teacher 
the  next  day. 

"Because  I  have  a  big  class  and  they  are  not  all 
learning  at  the  same  rate  of  speed.  I  cannot  teach 
individual  children." 

**Is  there  no  provision  made  for  the  quicker 
children?" 

*'No,  they  are  all  taught  together." 

This  is  the  reason  for  the  Educational  Tests  that 
you  hear  about  nowadays.  They  sort  children  into 
gToups  that  can  come  nearer  to  working  eventy.  No 
child  should  be  kept  going  over  and  over  the  same 
ground.     It  dulls  his  mind  and  stops  his  growth. 

By  all  means  have  the  children  tested  and  graded. 
It  is  economical  for  both  children  and  teacher.  Have 
no  fear  of  such  a  test.  It  shows  what  your  child 
is  doing  to-day  and  the  rate  he  is  doing  it.  Grade 
him  accordingly.  Give  him  a  chance  to  grow  at  his 
own  rate. 

The  danger  lies  in  taking  such  a  test  as  a  finality. 
It  is  nothing  of  the  sort.  It  simply  says  that  at  this 
day  at  this  time  your  child  was  such  a  child,  and  it 
does  not  say  that  at  another  day  at  another  time  he 
will  not  be  a  different  child. 

Children  should  be  tested  and  regrouped  fre- 
quently, and  no  parent  should  feel  unduly  elated 
because  his  child  was  graded  as  fast  and  high,  nor 
should  another  be  cast  down  because  his  has  been 
rated  as  slow  and  low.  Diagnosis  is  not  an  end. 
Such  tests  are  but  a  diagnosis. 


LESSONS 

*'Dear  Teacher: 

"Kitty  tells  me  that  you  took  the  class  to  the  park 
to-day  to  see  the  squirrels.  That  was  a  terrible 
waste  of  good  time.  I  don't  know  what  is  getting 
into  you  people.  Last  week  one  of  you  took  a  class  to 
the  docks  and  spent  the  whole  afternoon  there. 
Now,  my  oldest  son  tells  me  he  is  going  to  see  the 
play  about  Julius  Caesar  next  week. 

''Will  you  please  remember  that  I  send  my  chil- 
dren to  be  taught.  They  can  waste  time  as  good 
as  the  next  without  any  help  from  the  school.  I'll 
thank  you  to  keep  the  children  at  their  lessons  and 
I'll  attend  to  their  gallivanting." 

Such,  with  a  few  adjustments  in  spelling  and 
punctuation,  was  the  letter  Miss  Jennie  received  the 
day  after  she  had  taken  her  class  of  fifty  squirmers 
to  the  park  to  see  the  animals  that  the  Course  of 
Study  suggested  for  their  attention. 

It  is  a  time-worn  point  of  view  held  by  many 
parents.  Keep  the  children  at  their  books.  What 
has  the  school  to  do  with  life  outside  its  walls?  Let 
it  stay  indoors  and  mind  its  own  business — books. 

It  has  done  so  too  long  and  too  well.  It  is  time 
to  go  out  into  the  park  and  look  at  the  squirrels. 
High  time  that  the  boys  and  the  girls  of  the  city 
looked  at  the  docks.  Long  past  the  time  when  they 
should  have  been  taken  to  see  Julius  Cassar  played 
by  the  masters. 

161 


162  CHILD  TRAINING 

Words  without  experiences  are  useless  to  children. 
Books  cannot  educate.  They  are  but  the  dry  bones 
of  the  people  who  wrote  them  and,  writing,  passed 
on.  To  breathe  into  them  the  life  that  will  touch 
and  set  fire  to  the  soul  of  the  child,  the  book  experi- 
ences must  be  carried  out  into  the  world  of  living 
people.  Only  the  living  can  impart  life.  Push  the 
school  out  into  the  world  and  pull  the  world  into 
the  school. 

Make  the  job  practical.  Try  it  out  on  the  neigh- 
bors. The  little  chap  who  took  his  homework  to  the 
grocer  was  on  the  right  track,  although  his  motive 
might  be  open  to  doubt. 

He  had  to  make  out  a  long  bill  for  groceries  and 
hand  it  in  the  next  day.  There  were  fractions  of 
pounds  and  fractions  of  cents  in  that  bill.  He  went 
to  the  clerk  and  read  off  his  list  item  by  item.  The 
pile  on  the  counter  grew  and  the  order  seemed 
peculiar  to  the  clerk,  who  had  served  the  family 
many  years. 

''Are  you  sure  that  your  mother  wants  that  much 
salt?" 

**It*s  on  the  slip,"  said  the  searcher  after  knowl- 
edge. 

When  the  list  was  exhausted  and  the  bill  carefully 
itemized  and  totaled,  the  clerk  said:  *' Twenty-seven 
dollars  and  sixty-three  cents.  Does  your  mother 
want  us  to  charge  it  or  are  you  to  pay  for  it  ? " 

**Nope.  She  don't  want  it.  That's  my  homework 
for  to-morrow,"  said  he  sidling  towards  the  door. 

At  least  he  had  carried  his  problem  to  the  proper 
place,  the  shop.  Lots  of  our  teaching  should  be  done 
in  the  shop,  where  the  job  is. 


HANDS 

**I  do  wish  you  school  people  wouldn't  use  greasy 
machinery  and  messy  bottles  and  gummy  wires  and 
the  rest  of  the  grimy  things.  What's  the  idea? 
What  good  is  it  I  It  may  be  perfectly  all  right  to 
give  that  sort  of  thing  to  boys  who  will  earn  their 
living  with  their  hands,  but  my  son  is  going  into  a 
profession.  He  won't  need  that  work  at  all.  And 
it  might  give  him  a  distaste  for  his  books." 

It  would  be  a  fine  thing  if  parents  were  to 
straighten  out  in  their  minds  exactly  what  educa- 
tion means  and  how  a  child  is  educated.  It  would 
help  wonderfully  even  to  get  this  one  point  clear, 
the  point  about  using  one's  hands. 

Education  does  not  lie  in  textbooks.  A  great  part 
of  it  is  to  be  found  outside  of  them  and  can  never  be 
bound  inside  their  covers.  The  great  educational 
forces  are  people  and  experiences  and  the  relations 
between  them,  and  the  best  way  for  a  child  to  master 
these  forces  is  through  his  hands.  Hands  have  lifted 
men  from  the  foot-beaten  trail  to  the  high-powered 
motor  road.  Hands  have  given  us  all  we  have. 
Hands  have  made  us  secure  of  what  little  we  know 
of  this  world. 

The  engineer  can  plan  a  wonderful  machine  in  his 
mind,  but  the  first  step  towards  realization  is  to  put 
the  plan  on  paper.  The  idea  must  enter  on  the  first 
stage  of  material  existence  through  his  hands.    Then 

163 


164  CHILD  TRAINING 

skilled  workers  take  the  plan  and  create  the  struc- 
ture with  their  hands. 

There  is  a  very  close  association  between  hands 
and  minds.  Study  the  hands  of  the  people  about  you 
and  you  will  see  that  the  hands  of  the  highly  trained, 
keenly  intelligent  workers  have  the  trained,  intelli- 
gent look.  Hands  are  alive  with  the  minds  behind 
them. 

The  engineer,  the  surgeon,  the  dentist,  the  artist, 
all  have  sensitive  intelligent  hands.  You  feel  in- 
stinctively that  these  hands  are  strong  and  sure. 
They  never  fumble  nor  grope  nor  lie  helpless.  They 
are  trained  hands. 

The  more  highly  trained  and  skillful  the  hand,  the 
more  intelligent,  powerful  and  successful  is  the  mind 
behind  it.  That  is  one  reason  why  the  country  boy 
is  so  often  remarkably  successful  when  he  goes  to 
the  city  to  market  himself.  His  hands  are  alive  and 
his  mind  is  alert  because  the  one  trained  the  other 
as  he  used  them  in  the  countless  chores  of  the  farm. 

It  is  a  mistake  to  grumble  because  your  child  gets 
an  opportunity  to  work  with  his  hands.  Guard  every 
chance  jealously.  Hands  are  the  gateway  toward  a 
complete  and  rich  education. 

The  reason  the  day  laborer  remained  a  laborer  all 
his  life  was  not  because  he  got  too  much  hand  train- 
ing, but  because  he  did  not  get  enough. 


WHY  SKIP  HIM? 

**IVe  come  in  to  ask  you  to  do  something  for  my 
son.  He  lost  a  term  because  he  was  sick,  and  now 
I  'd  like  him  to  make  it  up.  He 's  a  very  bright  child, 
and  I'd  help  him  outside  of  school  if  you  would 
skip  him." 

"You  say  he  is  behind  his  grade?  He  lost  a 
term?" 

**Yes.    He  could  not  come.    He  was  sick." 

**And  we  have  not  tried  to  make  up  his  time?  We 
haven't  given  him  a  special  program  or  extra 
lessons?" 

**No.  He  hasn't  any  special  program  and  no 
home  lessons  at  all." 

* '  That 's  strange.  I  wonder  how  we  came  to  over- 
look him.    What  class  is  he  in?    How  old  is  he? 

''He's  in  the  second  class.    He's  seven." 

By  that  time  I  had  the  child's  record  card.  *  'Why 
he  has  not  been  left  back.  He  was  promoted  on  time 
and  he  is  now  in  the  next  class.  His  record  shows 
that  he  is  a  good  scholar,  doing  the  work  of  his 
grade,  but  no  more." 

"Yes,  but  you  see,  if  I  had  entered  him  in  the  first 
class  when  he  was  six  I  could  have  saved  the  six 
months  and  now  he  would  be  a  grade  higher." 

"What's  the  hurry?" 

"I  want  him  to  get  along  fast.  I  w^nt  him  to  get 
into  the  'Rapid  Advance  Classes'  with  all  the  bright 
children. ' ' 

165 


166  CHILD  TRAINING 

Often  this  situation  arises  in  our  schools.  Many- 
parents  think  that  a  quick  mastery  of  the  informa- 
tion side  of  the  Course  of  Study  means  intellectual 
brilliance.  Occasionally  it  does;  more  often  it 
doesn't. 

There  is  little  use  in  teaching  a  child  something 
that  he  masters  with  difficulty  at  seven  that  he  could 
learn  with  ease  and  pleasure  when  he  is  nine.  Very 
young  children  are  hungry  for  knowledge  of  all 
sorts.  Feed  it  to  them,  by  all  means,  as  long  as 
they  can  take  it  with  enjoyment  and  ask  for  more. 
But  why  push  them  into  groups  beyond  them  in 
power  and  experience? 

This  is  the  time  to  furnish  the  child  with  the  tools 
of  learning.  He  should  read  and  read  and  read,  and 
tell  stories  and  listen  to  them. 

This  is  the  time  to  lay  the  foundations  for  a  broad 
culture.  Teach  him  the  beauty  of  what  lies  in  the 
life  about  him.  Surround  him  with  color  and  form 
and  music  that  sink  into  his  eager  consciousness, 
and  form  tastes  that  make  all  the  difference  in  life 
to  him. 

Give  the  child  in  the  first  four  years  of  school  a 
broad  basis  of  culture  and  thorough  mastery  of  the 
three  R's.  If  there  is  any  skipping  to  be  done, 
adolescence  is  the  place  to  do  it.  It  can  be  done 
healthily  if  the  primary  work  is  not  skimped.  But 
that  is  exactly  where  the  skipping  and  the  skimping 
is  done,  to  the  detriment  of  the  children  and  the  con- 
fusion of  the  high  school. 


HOMEWORK 

How  much  homework  should  a  child  have! 

None.    Some.    A  good  deal. 

The  child  under  ten  does  not  need  book  homework. 

He  begins  to  think  of  school  along  about  seven 
thirty  when  his  mother  pulls  him  out  of  bed.  It 
stays  on  his  mind  until  four  o'clock,  when  he  gets 
home  again  and  asks  for  an  apple. 

Give  him  the  apple  and  hand  him  his  skates  or  his 
bat.  Turn  him  loose  until  dinner  time.  Shortly 
afterward  drive  him  to  bath  and  to  bed.  His  day 
is  complete. 

Over  ten  he  begins  to  do  a  few  home  lessons. 
They  should  be  easy  and  take  no  longer  than  half 
an  hour. 

Home  lessons  should  gradually  increase  from 
there  on  until  they  reach  their  limit  of  two  hours  in 
high  school.  The  child  is  not  so  play-hungry  then 
and  the  work  instinct  is  strong. 

Every  parent  has  his  own  idea  about  these  home 
lessons.  Some  parents  cannot  get  enough  of  them. 
A  few  parents  want  none  at  all.  Many  complain  that 
the  work  is  burdensome. 

Homework,  like  everything  else  in  this  world,  is 
good  until  it  is  overdone.  Then  it  is  bad.  Or  under- 
done, and  then  it  is  worse. 

Homework  is  a  phase,  although  a  minor  one,  of 
education. 

The  parent  who  demands  a  great  quantity  of  it  in 

167 


168  CHILD  TEAINING 

order  to  keep  the  children  quiet  is  misusing  it- 
Homework  is  useless  unless  it  is  carefully  planned 
and  corrected.  The  teacher  can  only  correct  a 
limited  amount  of  it. 

The  parent  who  demands  increased  homework  so 
that  his  child  may  make  an  extra  grade  and  excel  his 
neighbor's  child  is  misusing  both  his  child  and  the 
school. 

The  parent  who  asks  for  homework  so  as  to  get  a 
line  on  the  teacher's  plan  of  work  and  check  up  his 
child's  accomplishment  is  making  a  wise  use  of  it. 

The  parent  who  asks  for  homework  for  the  child 
who  is  failing  in  a  subject  or  who  has  lost  ground 
through  absence  is  making  a  wise  and  intelligent 
use  of  it. 

It  all  depends  upon  what  idea  lies  behind  the 
homework.  Homework  should  be  used  to  connect 
the  home  with  the  school.  It  should  tie  up  the  loose 
ends  of  the  child's  knowledge.  It  should  give  the 
child  the  feeling  of  a  finished,  well  rounded  day. 


THE  TEACHER  KNOWS 

It  was  a  clear  blue  morning  in  November.  Hoar 
frost  trimmed  the  the  fallen  brown  leaves  and  edged 
the  fence  rails  and  lay  like  a  fairy  robe  over  the 
brown  heads  of  the  roadside  weeds.  One  tolerant 
lazy  smile  from  the  stay-a-bed  sun,  and  the  silvery 
magic  was  gone. 

The  Second  Eeader  class  trooped  into  their  big 
sunny  room.  The  janitor  had  ''made  a  little  heat 
to  take  the  morning  chill  off. ' '  The  room  was  com- 
fortably warm,  and  the  children  peeled  off  their 
sweaters  and  caps  and  hung  them  in  their  places. 

All  but  chubby,  little  Minnie.  She  walked  to  her 
seat  wearing  her  rose-colored  sweater.  Her  mother 
had  knitted  it  for  her,  and  she  was  very  proud  of  it. 
Perhaps  mother  was,  too,  for  when  Miss  Lavinia 
said,  ''Minnie,  you  forgot  to  take  off  your  sweater," 
Minnie  said,  with  an  air  of  superior  virtue, ' '  Oh,  no. 
Mother  wants  me  to  wear  it!" 

"Not  in  the  classroom,  I'm  sure.  You  wear  it  on 
the  way  to  school  and  home  again,  and  in  the  yards, 
but  not  in  the  warm  schoolroom. ' ' 

"Yes.  My  mother  said  it  was  cool  to-day,  and  I'd 
better  wear  my  sweater  all  day.  I  told  her  you 
didn't  let  us  wear  them,  and  she  said  to  tell  you." 

Miss  Lavinia  was  very  careful  to  respect  the 
authority  of  the  mothers,  so  she  said  no  more,  but 
gave  Minnie  a  note  at  noon  time.  The  reply  came 
promptly.    "Yes,  I  want  Minnie  to  wear  her  sweater 

169 


170  CHILD  TRAINING 

in  the  classroom.  I'm  afraid  she  will  take  cold. 
She  is  subject  to  them.  She  is  so  delicate  that  I 
have  to  take  extra  precautions." 

So  Minnie  wore  her  sweater  and  when  the  class 
went  to  the  yards  to  play  she  had  no  extra  wrap. 
The  Second  Year  class  played  earnestly.  When  they 
answered  the  bell  at  the  end  of  recess  they  were 
thoroughly  warmed  up.  Minnie  was  very  warm. 
She  went  home  for  lunch.  All  the  afternoon  she 
wore  her  sweater.  She  joined  in  the  games  of  the 
afternoon  recess  as  heartily  as  she  had  in  the 
morning. 

The  second  day  was  like  the  first  and  Minnie  still 
wore  her  sweater.  Miss  Lavinia  talked  about  wear- 
ing clothes  for  indoors  and  clothes  for  outdoors. 
Talked  about  the  danger  of  being  very  warm  and 
going  into  the  open  air  without  extra  wraps.  The 
Second  Year  class  listened  gravely  and  with  an  air 
of  conscious  virtue.  ' '  They  took  off  their  sweaters. 
Let  those  that  didn't  take  heed." 

Minnie  was  well  aware  of  the  situation.  She 
knew  perfectly  well  that  there  was  a  difference  of 
opinion  between  the  teacher  and  her  mother  and 
enjoyed  it.  Backed  by  one's  mother  one  may  dare 
much  in  the  Second  Reader,  and  Minnie  played 
harder  and  hugged  her  sweater  tighter. 

The  third  day  Minnie  showed  unmistakable  signs 
of  distress.  Her  eyes  were  closing  and  her  nose  had 
almost  disappeared  in  a  crease  between  two  puffy 
cheeks.  She  laid  her  head  down  on  the  desk  and 
gave  away  to  tears.    Miss  Lavinia  sent  her  home. 

Better  let  the  teacher  have  charge  of  the  child 
while  he  is  in  the  classroom.  She  is  there  and  you 
are  not.  She  knows  what  ought  to  be  done  and  it  is 
better  that  you  let  her  do  it. 


THE  GIFTED  CHILD 

Genius  touches  humanity  but  seldom.  It  is  so 
precious  that  the  school  must  be  on  the  lookout  for 
it.  Genius  is  shy,  and  must  be  searched  out,  coaxed 
to  show  itself.  To  let  it  die  of  neglect  is  to  court 
tragedy. 

It  is  to  the  gifted  ones  that  the  nation  must  look 
for  leadership  in  its  higher  life.  Its  art,  its  industry, 
its  science  depend  upon  the  gifted  ones.  The  loss  of 
one  is  irreparable.  The  gain  of  one  is  immeasurable. 
Who  can  measure  the  immortals? 

There  came  to  a  big  school  of  the  city  a  boy  who 
could  speak  no  word  of  English.  His  progress  was 
very,  very  slow.  His  teacher  appealed  to  the 
principal. 

''This  lad  is  never  going  to  speak  our  language 
fluently.  He  is  close  to  the  age  when  he  will  leave 
the  school.  If  we  are  to  do  him  any  real  service  we 
must  do  it  now.  So  far  we  have  done  nothing.  He 
can  speak  a  few  words  when  I  call  on  him.  Left  to 
himself,  he  talks  his  own  language,  thinks  his  own 
language.    I  cannot  reach  him." 

The  principal  went  to  see  the  boy  as  he  worked  in 
the  classroom.  He  was  sitting  there ;  that  was  about 
all.  He  smiled  pleasantly  at  the  teacher  when  she 
spoke  to  him,  said  his  few  words,  and  relapsed  into 
his  gentle  presence.  That  was  all  the  classroom  had 
of  him — ^his  gentle  presence. 

The  principal  talked  to  him  in  his  own  language 

171 


172  CHILD  TRAINING 

and  learned  that  the  boy  loved  clay.  He  longed  to 
make  things  in  the  modeling  room. 

Once  in  the  modeling  room,  he  became  alive,  alert, 
eager.  He  seized  a  bit  of  clay  and  set  to  work 
feverishly.  He  made  animals,  birds,  flowers,  figures 
of  the  saints. 

One  morning  he  asked  for  ''much  clay."  He 
would  make  a  large  piece.  He  would  make  Samson 
and  the  Lion.  And  he  did.  All  term  he  worked  on 
his  group.  The  school  could  not  open  early  enough 
for  him.    It  always  closed  before  he  was  through. 

The  instructor  called  the  attention  of  one  of  the 
artists  in  the  city  to  the  boy,  and  he  secured  a 
scholarship  for  him  in  one  of  the  great  art  schools. 
Now  he  is  weU  on  his  way  toward  a  career.  America 
will  be  the  richer  for  him. 

Is  your  school  equipped  with  teachers  and  chops 
to  give  the  gifted  child  an  opportunity?  Is  there 
a  place  to  grow  the  leader  in  science,  industry,  and 
art  in  your  school!    Why  not? 


THE  POOE  STUDENT 

"Another  *C.'  Goodness!  What's  the  use  of 
sending  a  boy  to  school  unless  the  teacher  teaches 
him  something?  "What's  the  use  of  her  sending  me 
a  report  card  marked  all  over  with  red-inked  de- 
ficiencies ?  I  can 't  go  to  school  and  teach  him.  Why 
don't  they  do  something  with  him? 

"They"  cannot  do  any  more  with  him  than  you 
can.  Not  as  much,  probably.  You  cannot  learn  the 
boy's  lessons  for  him,  do  his  growing  for  him,  any 
more  than  you  can  eat  his  food  and  have  it  nourish 
his  body  for  him. 

Neither  can  the  teacher.  Straighten  out  in  your 
mind  just  what  the  teacher  can  do  for  your  son  and 
perhaps  you  will  get  along  better.  At  least  you  will 
know  what  to  do  to  help  her. 

All  the  teacher  can  do  is  to  present  the  lesson  to 
him.  This  she  will  do  with  all  the  skill  at  her  com- 
mand. She  will  try  to  interest  the  boy  in  his  lesson. 
She  will  tell  him  how  to  set  about  getting  the  infor- 
mation he  needs  to  have  and  tell  him  how  to  use  it 
when  he  gets  it. 

She  will  help  him  measure  his  success  when  he  has 
finished.  She  will  praise  him  for  the  effort  he  has 
put  into  it  and  encourage  his  faith  in  himself.  She 
will  pass  over  his  failures  as  lightly  as  possible  and 
still  not  let  him  think  them  successes.  That  is  about 
all  she  can  do  for  him. 

What  can  you  do  for  him?  You  can  see  that  he 
has  good  nourishing  food  and  comfortable  clothing. 

173 


174  CHILD  TRAINING 

You  can  see  that  he  sleeps  and  eats  and  works  regu- 
larly. You  can  send  him  to  school  with  the  idea  that 
his  teacher  is  his  friend  and  is  anxious  to  help  him. 
You  can  praise  him  for  his  successes  and  grieve  over 
his  failures. 

The  biggest  thing  you  can  do  for  him  is  to  teach 
him  that  neither  you  nor  the  teacher  nor  any  one 
else  in  the  world  is  responsible  for  his  success  or  his 
failures.  Teach  him  that  the  blame  for  a  failure 
must  lie  on  his  own  head.  Teach  him  responsibility 
for  his  own  actions. 

The  teacher  may  present  the  cup  of  water,  but  he 
can  drink  or  not  as  he  wills.  The  wise  old  man  of 
our  village  used  to  say,  ''Hard  work  isn't  easy." 
But  hard  work  is  the  only  thing  that  will  get  a  boy 
through  school  or  to  anything  else  worth  while. 

Unless  he  learns  this,  unless  he  knows  that  his 
grumblings,  his  complaints  about  the  difficulty  of 
the  lessons,  the  indifference  of  his  teachers,  the 
injustice  of  the  marking  system,  are  just  so  much 
clutter  in  the  way  of  his  own  progress,  he  will  not 
succeed. 

Teach  him  to  look  at  himself,  to  judge  himself 
before  any  one  else  gets  the  chance  to  do  it  for  him. 
Teach  him  to  shoulder  responsibility  for  himself. 
It  is  a  bad  sign  when  a  boy  does  not  know  he  is  fail- 
ing until  the  report  card  reaches  home  and  informs 
him  of  it. 


THE  STORY  TELLER 

A  tearful  mother  appealed  to  the  principal. 

**I  don't  know  what  to  do.  My  son,  who  has  never 
done  such  a  thing  before,  has  told  me  the  most  awful 
story.  His  teacher  sent  for  me,  and  I'm  ashamed 
to  meet  her." 

''Why  did  the  boy  tell  you  a  story?  What  did  he 
tell  you?" 

**I'm  sure  I  don't  know  why.  He  told  me  that  he 
had  been  skipped.  That  the  teacher  had  promoted 
him.    He  has  been  in  the  class  less  than  a  month. 

"I  was  dehghted  to  hear  it,  and  so  was  his  father. 
He  told  all  our  relatives  and  friends.  Now  to-day 
comes  this  letter  from  the  teacher.  She  says  that  his 
work  and  conduct  are  very  unsatisfactory.  He  has 
not  been  promoted  at  all.  He  is  even  in  danger  of 
being  put  back.    Now,  what  do  you  thing  of  that?" 

*  *  I  'm  wondering  why  he  did  it. ' ' 

**So  am  I  wondering.  I  could  hardly  believe  my 
eyes.  And  think  of  it  I  I  have  to  tell  his  father  and 
all  his  relations." 

**Why  tell  his  relations  at  all?" 

*'You  see,  my  sister  has  a  son  just  the  same  age. 
He  is  a  very  bright  boy.  He  often  makes  two  grades 
in  a  term,  so  he  is  away  ahead  of  my  son  in  school. 

''Often  I  say  to  my  son,  'Why  don't  you  try? 
Why  don't  you  try  to  skip  like  your  cousin?  Is  he 
the  only  smart  one  in  the  family?'  My  sister  and  I 
often  talk  over  the  children,  so  they  always  know 

175 


176  CHILD  TRAINING 

when  he  is  promoted  or  left  back.  Of  course  I  told 
them  when  he  said  he  had  skipped.  Now  I  must  tell 
them  it  isn't  true.'* 

**And  that  is  where  the  trouble  came  from,"  said 
the  principal.  "Your  son  wanted  you  to  have  some- 
thing fine  to  tell  next  time.  He  was  so  anxious  to 
have  you  feel  proud  of  him,  to  make  you  think  that 
he  was  just  as  good  as  his  cousin,  that  first  he  wished 
it  were  true,  then  he  imagined  it  was,  and  at  last  he 
told  it  as  though  it  were  true. 

''You  see  he  hasn't  much  judgment  yet.  He  is  a 
slow-growing  boy  and  you  want  him  to  be  quick.  He 
wanted  you  to  be  pleased  with  him,  and  when  he 
couldn't  do  what  you  wanted  he  told  you  the  pleas- 
ant story. 

*'The  worry  of  the  wrong  story  has  almost  cost 
him  his  grade.  Try  to  make  him  feel  that  you  are 
satisfied  to  have  him  do  the  best  he  can,  and  never 
mind  the  quick-growing  child.  Yours  will  probably 
catch  up  and  go  ahead  as  fast  as  you  wish  later. 
But  try  to  make  your  boy  feel  that  you  appreciate 
him.    That  is  what  he  needs  now." 


ASTONISHING 

**The  third  girl  in  the  second  row,"  whispered 
the  nurse  to  the  teacher.  *'See,  she  keeps  her  mouth 
open  and  lurches  forward.  She  ought  to  go  up  to 
the  doctor's  office  and  be  examined  for  adenoids." 

** She's  a  nice  little  thing,  but  not  at  all  bright," 
said  the  teacher.    **I'll  send  her  up." 

The  doctor  gave  the  child  a  slip  to  take  to  her 
mother.  Her  mother  read  it.  '  *  Adenoids  and  hyper- 
trophied  tonsils.  Ought  to  be  taken  out  as  soon  as 
possible." 

''Hm-m.  Well,  I'm  not  going  to  have  anything 
done  to  you.  Just  tell  the  teacher  and  the  nurse 
and  any  one  else  that  asks  you.  They  ought  to  mind 
their  own  business.  You'll  have  no  operation." 
And  she  squeezed  the  note  into  a  ball  and  tossed  it 
into  a  basket. 

So  Peggie  went  on  to  school  and  had  "nothing 
done  to  her."  A  heavy  rainstorm  set  in  and  she 
caught  cold.  It  lasted  for  days  and  days.  Her  eyes 
were  sore  and  her  throat  was  sore.  She  breathed 
hard  and  coughed  steadily.  Of  course,  she  was 
absent  from  school. 

She  returned  after  a  time  and  tried  to  catch  up 
with  her  class,  but  she  felt  tired  and  weak  and  the 
lessons  were  so  hard.    The  teacher  sent  a  note  home. 

**  Peggie  is  falling  behind  the  class.  She  needs 
extra  help  for  the  work  she  lost  if  she  is  to  go  ahead 
with  her  class.    Her  promotion  is  doubtful." 

177 


178  CHILD  TRAINING 

A  teacher  was  called  in  and  Peggie  tried  to  catch 
up.  She  gained  a  little.  Then  another  storm  with  a 
sharp,  cold  wind  laid  her  up  with  tonsillitis. 

**It's  too  bad  you  didn't  have  the  child's  tonsils 
removed,"  said  the  doctor.  ''She'll  have  this 
trouble  right  along.  Her  tonsils  are  diseased  and 
will  make  trouble  until  they  are  taken  out.  I'll  do 
what  I  can  to  fix  her  up  now,  but  you  must  have  this 
attended  to  as  soon  as  possible." 

Again  Peggie  recovered  and  again  she  returned  to 
school.  But  she  had  fallen  hopelessly  behind  in  her 
work. 

**I  regret  to  inform  you  that  Peggie  has  failed  and 
must  repeat  the  grade,"  read  the  report  that  arrived 
at  the  end  of  the  term. 

''Now  what  do  you  think  of  that?"  asked  the 
mother  in  disgust.  "That's  just  spite.  Just  be- 
cause I  wouldn't  have  that  child  operated  upon  they 
wouldn't  promote  her.  I'll  have  her  transferred  to 
another  school.    That's  all  the  good  it  will  do  them. ' ' 

Now,  what  do  you  think  of  that?  Astonishing. 
And  yet  it  happens  in  every  school  right  along  with 
pathetic  regularity. 


PRIZES 

**I*m  going  to  give  you  each  three  seeds  to  take 
home  and  plant  in  a  flower  pot,"  said  the  teacher. 
**The  first  week  in  June  you  may  bring  in  your 
plants  and  the  best  one  gets  the  first  prize,  the  next 
best  the  second.  There  will  be  five  prizes.  See  who 
gets  them." 

Victor  carried  his  seeds  home  and  looked  about 
for  a  flower  pot.  Such  things  were  scarce  in  the 
basement  room  he  lived  in,  so  he  went  to  a  dump 
near  by  and  picked  out  a  scarred  saucepan.  He 
filled  this  with  soil  and  planted  his  seeds. 

"I'm  going  to  get  a  prize,  mom." 

**A  prize?    Who  gives  to  my  son  a  prize  V 

**A  man  that  likes  us  to  plant  seeds  for  flowers 
to  come.    I'm  going  to  get  the  first  one." 

**Be  not  sure  of  that,  my  son.  Prizes  do  not  often 
come  to  those  who  want  them. ' ' 

But  Victor  had  made  the  prize  his  own  and  talked 
of  nothing  else.  The  day  his  seeds  broke  through 
the  soil  he  told  the  teacher  the  prize  was  won. 

**I'm  afraid  you  do  not  understand,  Victor.  The 
plants  must  grow  and  flowers  must  come  before 
anybody  can  have  a  prize." 

"Yes,  I  know.    Mine  is  the  prize." 

*  *  Dear  me, ' '  sighed  the  troubled  teacher.  *  *  What 
will  happen  if  he  shouldn't  get  it!  I'd  better  see 
what  the  plants  look  like."   So  she  went  to  the  base- 

179 


180  CHILD  TRAINING 

ment  room  and  Victor  brought  out  his  treasure. 
The  teacher  almost  groaned. 

"See  how  long  and  nice  they  are,"  said  he,  dis- 
playing the  poor,  starved,  scraggly  yellow  vines. 
** Marcus  says  his  are  only  so  big,"  said  he,  show- 
ing what  to  his  mind  was  a  contemptible  height  for 
nasturtiums. 

•  •'  !•  •  •  •  • 

"When  you  give  out  the  prizes  to-day,"  said  the 
teacher  to  the  flower  man  who  had  supplied  the 
seeds,  "give  this  one  to  Victor  for  his  plant  and  say 
it  is  for  the  greatest  success  under  the  worst  con- 
ditions." So  Victor  got  his  prize  and  the  teacher's 
mind  was  eased. 

"You  see,"  she  said  afterward,  "children  do  not 
really  understand  the  psychology  of  prizes.  I  don't 
myself.  They  can  never  be  just,  because  one  can 
never  know  the  real  conditions.  The  children  know 
more  about  that  part  of  it  than  we  do,  so  the  general 
result  is  a  mess." 

"And  I  thought  I  was  helping,"  said  the  flower 
man  ruefully. 

"But  you  couldn't  help  with  a  prize,  you  see,  be- 
cause you  didn't  know  about  Victor,"  said  the 
teacher. 


A  MISUNDERSTANDING 

"Will  you  please  come  to  the  school  as  soon  as 
it  is  convenient?  I  would  like  to  talk  to  you  about 
your  son,  Charles.  His  work  is  poor  and  his  con- 
duct is  rapidly  becoming  impossible,"  wrote  the 
teacher. 

Charles  carried  the  note  in  his  pocket  until  it  was 
a  dingy,  gray  rag.  The  teacher  had  grown  so  in- 
sistent that  he  knew  the  next  day  would  bring  de- 
cisive action.  So  he  placed  the  note  at  his  mother's 
plate  as  he  went  off  to  school  in  the  morning. 

His  mother  was  greatly  disturbed.  She  was  the 
president  of  the  Mothers'  Club.  She  felt  that  if  any 
child  in  the  school  had  had  the  proper  care,  the 
correct  methods  of  training,  the  most  modem  treat- 
ment of  child  problems,  it  was  her  son. 

Now  she  was  summoned  to  school  for  all  the  world 
as  though  she  had  been  the  most  neglectful  of  moth- 
ers. It  was  stupid.  The  teacher  simply  did  not 
understand  an  intelligent  child  brought  up  in  the 
modem  manner. 

She  told  the  principal  that.  He  looked  doubtful. 
"Your  son's  teacher  is  one  of  the  best  teachers  we 
have,"  he  said.  **I  think  it  would  be  well  for  you 
to  interview  her  and  try  to  find  out  what  is  the 
trouble. '  * 

*'I  know  what  the  trouble  is.  The  teacher  does 
not  understand  boys.    She  is  not  a  mother.    She 

181 


182  CHILD  TRAINING 

has  never  been  a  boy.  Both  these  experiences  being 
foreign  to  her,  she  cannot  understand." 

**Then  the  best  thing  to  do,"  said  the  principal, 
*4s  to  place  him  with  the  teacher  who  has  had  one 
experience  you  speak  of.  I  '11  send  him  to  the  other 
class.  That  teacher  has  two  sons.  Perhaps  she 
will  meet  the  situation. ' ' 

The  new  teacher  stood  Charles  for  a  week.  Then 
she  went  to  the  principal.  **  Charles  is  impossible. 
He  does  no  work  and  allows  no  one  else  to  work. 
I  cannot  get  the  class  anywhere  with  him  in  the 
room." 

His  mother  was  sent  for  again.  This  time 
Charles 's  conduct  was  explained  to  her  with  a  merci- 
less wealth  of  incident  and  detail. 

**And  the  last  thing  he  did,"  said  the  principal  in 
closing,  "was  to  dip  the  end  of  Marcella's  braid  into 
the  inkwell.  The  inky  hair  ruined  her  dress.  "When 
the  teacher  took  him  to  task  for  that  he  said :  '  My 
mother  says  you  do  not  understand  boys.'  I  shall 
have  to  ask  you  either  to  withdraw  him  or  discipline 
him." 

Mother  went  home,  ** stepping  high."  When 
Charles  arrived  she  was  feeling  no  calmer. 

"How  dare  you  disgrace  us  so?  How  dare  you 
do  such  things,  young  man?" 

"0  mother,  you  don't  understand  boys." 


SILENCE 

I  love  silence.  It  may  be  that  spending  many- 
years  of  my  life  amid  the  hurly  burly  of  this  noisy 
city  has  made  me  long  for  it. 

The  silence  of  the  church  is  soothing  and  spirit- 
ually restful.    One  prays  in  the  silence. 

The  silence  of  the  churchyard,  where  the  sleepers 
lie  in  that  last  great  silence,  is  calm  and  sweet.  It  is 
the  silence  of  repose.  It  is  the  atmosphere  of  the 
soul  at  peace.    ** Peace.    My  peace  I  give  unto  you." 

But  the  silence  of  the  schoolroom?  That  silence 
often  makes  me  uneasy.  Are  those  silent,  inmiov- 
able  little  souls  in  the  silence  of  life  or  death?  All 
happy  growing  things  make  some  sort  of  noise.  Chil- 
dren always  make  a  noise  if  they  are  free. 

Oh,  yes  they  do.  The  little  girl  while  she  sews  her 
doll's  dress  swings  her  legs  and  hums  softly,  or  chat- 
ters to  the  silent  doll. 

Where  two  or  three  children  are  gathered,  silence 
is  not  in  the  midst  of  them.  Are  you  sure  that  the 
attitude  of  silence  and  immovability  of  the  children 
in  the  classroom  means  active  growth? 

Are  you  sure  that  the  child  sitting  ''tail"  on  his 
little  bench  with  his  reader  held  just  so  in  his  care- 
fully posed  hands  is  actually  reading?  Or  thinking 
about  reading?  Think  back  to  the  time  when  you  sat 
so  silently  and  held  your  book  so  carefully.  What 
were  you  thinking  about  and  what  were  you  actually 
'doing?    So  was  I. 

183 


184  CHILD  TRAINING 

To  really  give  the  children  a  chance  to  grow  ac- 
tively in  the  classroom  the  classes  will  have  to  be 
made  smaller.  The  furniture  will  have  to  be  made 
for  the  socialized  recitation  and  socialized  study. 
Then  the  note  of  silence  will  change. 

There  is  the  silence  of  death  and  the  silence  of 
life.  Out  in  the  forest  there  is  a  silence  that  one 
feels  and  hears.  Things  are  growing,  living,  fulfill- 
ing the  law  of  their  being.  One  feels  and  hears  the 
hum  of  life  in  the  teeming  silence;  feels  the  work 
and  the  workers  and  loves  the  silence.    It  is  of  God. 

I  would  have  it  so  in  the  classroom. 


SKIMPING  THE  SCHOOL 

The  School  Board  were  short  of  funds.  There 
was  no  money  to  buy  paint  to  freshen  up  the  dirty, 
dingy  walls  of  the  schoolroom.  The  teacher  got  up 
an  entertainment  to  raise  the  money  to  buy  the 
paint.  The  fund  was  not  large  enough  to  buy  the 
paint  and  pay  the  painter  as  well,  so  the  teacher 
bought  the  paint  and  painted  the  room  herself.  The 
School  Board  commended  the  teacher. 

So  ran  the  account  in  a  recent  newspaper  issue. 
''And  the  School  Board  commended  the  teacher." 
Much  thanks  is  due  that  School  Board.  They  were 
doing  their  duty  hard.  They  stood  manfully  by  the 
teacher  and  the  children  of  their  village. 

They  could  get  no  money  to  buy  paint  for  the 
school.  The  teacher  took  over  the  job.  In  her  free 
time,  when  she  should  have  been  resting,  she  planned 
the  entertainment.  She  taught  the  i  children  the 
songs  and  ''pieces"  in  addition  to  her  day's  work. 

She  wrote  out  the  tickets  herself.  I  can  see  her 
sitting,  patiently  doing  them  in  her  best  hand.  The 
"Board"  might  criticize  them  if  they  were  not  per- 
fect specimens  of  penmanship. 

She  gave  the  tickets  to  the  children  to  sell.  They 
carried  the  money  to  her  and  she  kept  painful  ac- 
count of  it.  Daily  she  rehearsed  the  program  after 
she  had  completed  the  regular  work. 

The  day  of  the  entertainment  arrived.  The  pro- 
gram must  be  given  in  the  evening  so  the  men  might 

185 


186  CHILD  TRAINING 

be  able  to  attend.  The  room  must  be  made  ready. 
After  the  close  of  school  the  teacher  and  the  chil- 
dren swept  and  dusted  it. 

They  hung  a  flag  over  George  Washington's  pic- 
ture. They  put  paper  frills  on  the  flower  pots. 
Some  one  ran  out  and  borrowed  an  extra  flag  to  hide 
the  bad  spot  on  the  side  wall. 

Chairs  were  placed  on  the  platform  for  the  Board. 
The  lamps  were  cleaned  and  filled.  The  arrange- 
ments seemed  complete.  The  teacher  sent  the  chil- 
dren home  to  get  ready.  She  had  just  about  time  to 
have  a  bath  and  a  change  of  clothes  before  going 
back  to  school.  She  wanted  nothing  to  eat.  Her 
head  ached  and  her  hands  were  icy  cold.  Suppose 
something  went  wrong!  Suppose  the  Board  were 
not  pleased? 

She  hurried  to  the  little  building,  opened  the  win- 
dows, and  lit  the  lamps.  There  must  be  no  smell 
of  kerosene  when  the  visitors  arrived.  They  came 
smiling  and  receptive.  The  teacher  shook  hands 
with  each  one  and  thanked  them  for  coming. 

It  was  a  great  success.  There  was  just  enough 
money  to  buy  the  paint.  The  teacher  was  very 
happy.    And  the  School  Board  commended  her. 


THE  TEACHER  HE  LIKED 

Bob  came  home  from  school  at  the  end  of  the  first 
week  with  an  air  of  depression  unusual  to  his  cheer- 
ful self.  He  placed  his  books  carefully  on  the  shelf, 
hung  up  his  cap,  changed  his  school  clothes,  washed 
his  hands  and  face  without  being  told. 

His  mother  was  troubled  about  him,  but  said 
nothing.  She  made  a  pan  of  his  favorite  biscuits, 
thinking  they  might  lift  his  drooping  spirits.  But 
the  biscuits  failed,  although  he  ate  them  heartily 
enough. 

After  dinner  he  seated  himself  in  the  corner  with 
his  Scout  book.  Father  and  mother  exchanged  puz- 
zled glances.  Friday  night  was  free  night  and  he 
should  have  been  clamoring  for  permission  to  go  to 
Pete's  or  have  Pete  come  over. 

** How's  school?"  asked  father,  opening  his  paper, 
casually  as  possible. 

"Pretty  good." 

**Like  your  new  teacher?" 

"Rather  have  the  old  one." 

"Why,  I  thought  you  said  she  was  too  fussy  about 
your  hair  and  your  nails  and  your  shoes  and  your 
clothes  generally.  I  remember  you  storming  be- 
cause she  made  you  come  home  for  your  tie." 

"Yea.  But  she  made  everybody  come  to  school 
clean.  There  weren't  any  fellows  so  piggy  in  class 
that  you  couldn  't  sit  beside  them. ' ' 

"Oh!" 

187 


188  CHILD  TRAINING 

"And  she  made  us  behave,  too.  She  wouldn't 
stand  for  anybody's  breaking  into  a  lesson.  Any- 
way, nobody  ever  tried  it. ' ' 

"But  you  complained  because  she  was  so  strict. 
I  remember  distinctly  you  grumbled  because  she 
'called'  you  in  study  hour." 

"Yea.  I  know.  But  she  made  everybody  keep 
still  so  as  you  could  get  some  work  done  and  not 
have  so  much  homework  to  do.  And  she  kept  still 
herself,  too.  I  have  a  headache  just  on  account  of 
that  teacher  talking.  Her  voice  is  so  loud  it  makes 
your  ears  tired.  Maybe  it's  all  right,  but  I  don't 
like  it." 

"And  I  remember  you  said  that  the  old  teacher 
gave  you  hard  lessons.  You  said  they  were  harder 
than  any  other  class  got. ' ' 

"Yea.  But  she  knew  all  the  lessons  herself  and 
could  answer  all  the  questions  we  asked. ' ' 

"Can't  this  teacher?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  never  asked  any.  Nobody  asks 
her  any.    Don 't  get  a  chance. ' ' 

"You  don't  seem  to  like  the  teacher.  What  is  the 
matter?  If  you  don't  like  her  you  won't  get  on, 
you  know." 

"Aw.  I  don't  know.  It's  different,  that's  all  I 
know.    Wish  we  had  the  old  teacher." 

The  "old  teacher"  had  cost  more  and  the  board 
had  let  her  go  and  hired  another  one.  And  you  can 
see  she  was  "different." 


PAY  THE  TEACHER 

Why  is  it  that  people  pay  everybody  but  the  school 
teacher?  Why  is  it  hard  to  persuade  folks  that  a 
teacher  earns  his  pay? 

It  may  be  a  bit  difficult  for  the  doctor  to  extract 
his  fees  from  some  of  his  patients,  but  he  makes, 
up  for  any  defections  by  a  sliding  scale  of  charges. 
Somebody  has  to  pay  him. 

The  lawyer  gets  his  fees  in  advance.  He  sternly 
collects  from  his  clients.  He  makes  his  charges  fit 
living  conditions  and  gets  all  the  tariff  will  bear. 

The  butcher  and  the  grocer  calmly  mark  up  their 
prices.  They  know  we  have  to  pay  what  they  ask. 
The  laborer  calls  upon  his  union  and  gets  what  he 
demands. 

The  gas  company  boosts  its  rates  and  the  electric 
company  gleefully  follows  its  brilliant  example. 
The  landlord,  like  Abou  Ben  Adhem,  leads  all  the 
rest. 

But  the  teacher  who  teaches  the  children  of  the 
butcher  and  baker  and  grocer  and  lawyer  and  doctor 
and  landlord  finds  at  the  end  of  the  month  that  she 
owes  her  employers  money.  They  have  not  allowed 
her  sufficient  money  to  pay  their  own  claims  against 
her  for  the  privilege  of  daily  living.  Imagine  that 
happening  to  any  other  worker !    It  simply  couldn  't. 

Why  is  it? 

Chiefly  because  the  teacher  is  the  most  selfless  of 
workers.  The  teacher  becomes  absorbed  in  the  task 
of  training  America's  children.    She  has  no  room 


190  CHILD  TRAINING 

for  thought  of  any  other  sort.  The  day's  work  con- 
sumes her  stock  of  energy.  She  has  no  time  to  go 
to  organization  meetings,  no  strength  left  to  debate 
the  question  of  her  living  wage  with  the  politician 
and  taxpayers'  representatives,  whose  mission  in 
life  it  is  to  keep  down  the  tax  rate  without  hurting 
any  of  their  contributors.  It  is  easier  to  save  money 
on  the  school  budget  than  anywhere  else.  The  chil- 
dren do  not  know  enough  about  what  is  happening  to 
them  to  complain.  The  teacher  is  too  busy,  too 
tired,  too  afraid  to  make  her  voice  heard.  She  waits 
until  she  can  get  a  better-paying  position  and  then 
moves  on. 

Parents  do  not  really  understand  what  is  happen- 
ing to  their  children  when  the  school  budget  is  re- 
duced and  the  teacher  underpaid. 

Whose  job  is  it  to  see  that  the  schools  and  the 
teachers  and  the  children  get  what  is  due  to  them? 

Yours  I 


OLD  STYLE  AND  NEW 

**He  disobeyed  me,"  said  the  teacher.  ''He  dis- 
obeyed me  and  then  when  I  corrected  him  for  it,  he 
talked  back  to  me. ' ' 

*'I'm  sorry  he  disobeyed  you,  but  what  can  I  do?" 

''What  can  you  do?  Why,  if  you  teach  him  to 
obey  you  at  home  he  will  have  the  habit  of  obedience 
and  I  will  not  have  this  trouble  with  him." 

"But  I  tell  him  and  tell  him.  The  next  time  he 
does  just  the  same.  I  tell  him  he  must  do  what  you 
say.  He  goes  to  school.  I  cannot  see  what  he  is 
doing.  I  cannot  go  with  him.  You  must  make  him 
do  what  you  say." 

The  teacher  said  the  same  things  again.  So  did 
the  mother.  The  situation  was  rapidly  becoming 
strained.  The  atmosphere  was  full  of  "musts"  and 
"obeys",  when  the  drawing  master  came  into  the 
room.  He  was  rattling  the  keys  in  his  pocket  and 
smiling  at  something  that  seemed  to  please  him. 

The  dialogue  became  brisk.  The  mother  would 
but  could  not.  The  teacher  could  not  because  the 
mother  would  not.  The  drawing  master  chuckled  out 
loud.  The  mother  turned  to  him  with  relief  at  the 
suggestion  of  a  rift  in  the  gloom. 

"You  are  wrong,  ladies.  You  are  awfully  old- 
fashioned.  The  word  obey  has  been  dropped  from 
the  service.  It  is  not 'obey*.  It  is 'cherish'.  Cher- 
ish.   That's  the  word. 

"Come,  now,  and  I'll  give  you  a  lecture  for  noth- 
ing at  all.    Training  children  is  like  making  a  pic- 

191 


192  CHILD  TRAINING 

ture.  My  profession  and  yours  are  very  much  alike. 
All  roads  lead  to  teaching  if  they  lead  anywhere. 

"Now  if  my  brush  and  color  do  not  bring  out  what 
I  want,  I  don't  say  'must'  to  the  brush  and  the  color. 
No,  no.  I  cherish  that  brush  and  that  color.  I  talk 
kindly  to  them.  Are  they  not  the  children  of  my 
hand  ?    Are  they  not  doing  what  my  mind  directs  ? 

"I  make  a  daub.  My  mistake.  I  lift  off  the  color 
tenderly  lest  I  injure  the  canvas.  I  search  the  light. 
Is  it  good?  Does  it  fall  right?  Have  I  the  per- 
spective ?  Have  I  the  idea  or  do  I  merely  wish  I  had 
it  1  Am  I  honest  about  the  thing  I  want  to  lay  upon 
that  canvas?  Am  I  limning  truth,  or  am  I  pleasing 
my  lazy  soul? 

"Is  the  product  bad?  I  made  it.  I  alone.  The 
workmanship  is  poor?  Mine  was  the  hand  that 
traced  it.  Shall  I  fall  upon  the  material  I  work 
with?    Condemn  it?    Stamp  upon  it? 

"No,  no.  I  shall  cherish  it.  I  shall  dream  again 
and  more  truly.  I  shall  work  again  and  more  deftly. 
I  shall  cherish,  cherish,  cherish  the  work  of  my 
hands  until  I  am  the  master  and  it  is  my  own. 

"Cherish  is  the  word.    I  like  it." 


GEADUATION   DAY 

Throughout  the  country  this  month  the  boys  and 
girls  are  leaving  the  elementary  schools.  They  are 
graduating.    Have  you  thought  what  it  means  ? 

To  the  boys  and  girls  it  means  a  release,  mainly. 
They  see  themselves  freed  from  the  school  routine. 
For  a  while  this  will  be  a  joyous  relief.    Then  what? 

They  must  go  to  work.  They  must  go  to  work, 
and  scarcely  one  out  of  a  thousand  is  prepared  for 
work.  Why  should  they  go  to  work?  Why  should 
they  not  go  to  the  high  schools  and  be  definitely 
trained  for  the  work  they  can  do  best? 

The  child  who  graduates  from  the  elementary 
school  to-day  is  scarcely  more  than  a  baby.  The  com- 
plicated social  structure  is  beyond  his  conception. 
He  enters  it  blindly  and  gropes  his  way  somehow 
to  somewhere. 

The  tradition  of  graduation  day  in  the  elementary 
schools  has  become  harmful.  Parents  and  children 
beheve  that  it  is  a  breaking  off  place  in  their  edu- 
cation. 

The  ceremonies,  the  ritual  of  graduation,  have 
done  this.  When  life  in  America  was  simple,  when 
industry  was  not  the  gigantic  force  that  it  is  to-day, 
when  the  elementary  school  was  the  only  school  pos- 
sible for  the  average  child  in  the  country,  this  tradi- 
tion was  established. 

It  is  time  to  change  the  tradition.  Graduation 
from  the  elementary  grades  should  be  only  the  first 

193 


194  CHILD  TRAINING 

step  on  the  road  to  education.  Parents  and  children 
should  be  trained  in  the  knowledge  that  without 
secondary  education,  without  technical  training,  the 
child  is  not  fitted  for  the  struggle  ahead  and  is  going 
to  be  worsted  early  in  the  race. 

The  day  when  the  boy  could  start  at  the  bottom 
of  the  ladder,  in  his  employer 's  office,  and  rise  step 
by  step  to  a  partnership,  has  departed  with  the 
years.  To-day  he  must  have  a  definite,  thorough 
training  for  his  job.  If  he  hasn't  it  there  are  a 
dozen  youngsters  who  have.  He  will  be  smothered 
in  the  mass  competition. 

Graduation  exercises  with  the  pretty  girls  in  white 
gowns,  carrying  their  bouquets  of  bright  blossoms, 
boys  in  immaculate  blue  serge  with  carnations  in 
their  buttonholes,  are  all  very  well.  But  the  little 
roll  of  paper  tied  with  the  bow  of  ribbon  must  be 
looked  upon  as  an  entrance  certificate  and  not  the 
exit  signal. 


PAET  III 

BUILDING  THE  CHILD'S 
CHARACTER 


I 


THREE  WISHES 

If  you  could  have  three  wishes  for  your  child 
granted  you,  what  would  they  be? 

Good  health. 

Fine  character. 

Money  enough  to  pay  his  way. 

These  are  not  unreasonable  wishes.  But  what  are 
you  doing  to  make  these  wishes  come  true? 

Health.  When  you  took  your  seven-year-old  child 
to  the  movies  and  kept  him  out  of  bed  until  11  o  'clock 
and  sent  him  to  bed  with  his  head  filled  with  battle, 
murder,  and  sudden  death  with  the  promise  of  worse 
to  come,  you  spoiled  his  night's  rest.  You  shocked 
his  nervous  system.  That  took  several  points  from 
his  health  score. 

"When  you  allowed  him  to  eat  candy  until  he  could 
eat  no  supper  when  it  was  served,  you  lowered  it 
several  points  more.  When  he  neglected  to  wash  the 
sugar  from  his  teeth  before  going  to  bed  he  started 
the  decay  that  will  lower  his  health  score  still 
further.  No  one  knows  what  decayed  teeth  will  cost 
him  in  money  and  energy. 

You  have  to  be  alert  to  make  your  health  wish 
come  true. 

Fine  character.  When  you  told  your  friend  over 
the  telephone  that  you  could  not  keep  your  engage- 
ment because  you  were  not  feeling  well  and  then 
proceeded  to  play  cards  all  evening,  the  youngster 

197 


198  CHILD  TRAINING 

knew  that  you  had  not  told  the  truth.  His  charac- 
ter score  went  down  then.    He  follows  you. 

When  you  did  his  examples  for  him  and  allowed 
him  to  give  the  work  to  the  teacher  as  his  own  his 
character  score  lost  again. 

When  you  heard  him  promise  his  chum  he  would 
be  over  after  tea  to  help  clean  the  wheel  and  then 
allowed  him  to  accept  an  invitation  for  a  motor  ride 
without  excusing  himself  to  his  chum  or  asking  his 
wishes  in  the  matter  you  allowed  him  to  lower  his 
character  score  again.  You  should  have  insisted 
upon  his  going  over  to  his  chum  and  asking  to  be 
excused,  or  else  keep  his  engagement. 

Wishing  alone  won 't  make  things  come  true.  You 
have  to  work  for  them.  It  is  not  always  pleasant  to 
train  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go. 

Money.  When  you  give  him  money  he  should  be 
able  to  tell  what  he  did  with  it.  The  time  you  hand- 
ed him  a  dollar  and  never  inquired  what  became  of 
it  you  did  him  an  injury. 

He  should  be  placed  on  an  allowance  and  trained 
to  live  on  it.  In  that  way  he  will  learn  the  value  of 
money.  The  best  way  to  teach  him  its  true  value  is 
to  let  him  earn  it. 

Nothing  is  worse  for  a  growing  boy  than  to  be 
endowed.  Money  that  is  given  him  without  effort 
on  his  part  has  no  value.  Its  only  value  lies  in  the 
struggle  to  get  it,  the  price  we  pay  in  terms  of  body 
and  soul. 

The  child  is  entitled  to  this  training  if  you  want 
this  wish  to  come  true.  Translate  wishing  into  will- 
ing and  the  thing  is  done. 


A  GOOD  CHILD? 

Do  you  want  your  child  to  be  a  **good  child"? 

Be  one  yourself.  Be  assured  that  is  the  only  way 
you  will  ever  be  able  to  teach  him  your  idea.  Live 
as  you  would  have  your  child  live. 

You  would  have  your  child  healthy  ? 

Keep  yourself  fit.  Do  for  yourself  the  grooming 
and  exercising  and  dieting  you  would  have  your 
child  do.  It  will  do  you  little  good  to  tell  a  child 
that  he  needs  exercise,  that  he  should  not  eat  be- 
tween meals,  that  he  should  not  eat  unless  he  is  hun- 
gry, and  then  seat  yourself  in  a  rocker  and  read  and 
devour  a  pound  of  chocolates. 

You  would  have  your  child  good  mannered?  Pol- 
ish your  manners  until  they  are  distinguished. 

When  you  speak  to  those  about  you,  speak  in  tones 
of  courtesy  and  gentleness.  "When  you  feel  obliged 
to  refuse  a  request,  do  so  with  the  grace  of  one  be- 
stowing a  gift.  Little  will  your  mandates  about 
manners  do  for  your  child  when  you  speak  to  him  in 
shrill,  impatient  tones,  stamping  your  feet  and  beat- 
ing your  breast  because  he  has  not  understood  you 
or  because  he  has  followed  your  example  and  done 
the  wrong  thing.  Gentleness  is  the  essence  of  good 
breeding. 

You  would  have  your  child  a  child  of  good  taste 
and  culture?  Train  your  own  tastes  and  discipline 
your  own  appetites. 

When  you  have  your  choice  between  a  **  scream- 
ing farce"  and  a  Barrie  phantasy  and  you  choose 

199 


200  CHILD  TRAINING 

the  farce  and,  returning  to  the  home  circle,  tell  the 
children  all  about  it;  when  your  table  is  piled  high 
with  best  sellers,  and  the  masters  of  literature  are 
strangers  in  your  home;  when  you  know  Pickford 
better  than  you  know  Marlowe,  you  have  settled  the 
matter  of  taste  and  culture  in  your  family. 

You  would  have  your  child  one  of  fine  character? 
Show  him  one. 

Show  him  one  that  you  have  spent  a  lifetime  in 
making.  Show  him  a  character  that  you  have  forged 
in  the  fires  of  temptation  and  self-denial;  one  that 
has  been  tempered  by  the  tears  and  pain  of  service 
and  sacrifice;  one  that  has  been  finished  through 
hours  of  patient,  grinding  effort;  one  that  is  but- 
tressed by  a  purpose  and  will  and  faith  that  will  sup- 
port it  to  the  end. 

Face  it  soon  or  late,  the  only  way  to  have  a  ''good 
child"  is  to  be  one.  And  when  you  go  apart  and 
think  quietly  the  details  of  the  ideal  you  have  in 
mind  for  your  child,  the  physical  and  mental  and 
spiritual  labor  involved  in  its  creation,  you  will  be 
far  more  patient  of  his  stumbling  efforts  and  more 
tolerant  of  his  failures.  You  will  step  softly  before 
him  and  be  most  gentle  in  your  criticism. 

The  guide  knows  the  trail. 


THE  HARD  EOAD 

Perhaps  it  is  all  due  to  the  Pilgrim  Fathers.  Some 
people  think  it  is.  They  had  so  many  virtuous  vices 
that  this  one  may  be  their  legacy.  Anyway,  we  have 
it  present  with  us  wherever  children  are. 

Planted  deep  in  the  conscience  of  every  one  who 
has  to  do  with  children  seems  to  be  the  idea  that 
unless  the  thing  is  hard  for  the  child  to  do  it  is  not 
the  proper  task  for  him. 

''The  child  must  be  trained  to  do  his  duty,  and 
duty  is  always  hard.  Duty  is  hard.  Duty  is  painful. 
Duty  always  entails  self-sacrifice.  Unless  the  work 
is  unpleasant  and  'hard'  to  do  it  cannot  be  duty.'* 

Teachers  have  this  notion.  That  is  why  the  ex- 
amples they  give  always  have  a  fraction  in  the 
answer  and  never  come  out  even.  That  is  why  they 
give  sentences  like : 

''The  Lord  my  tender  shepherd  is 
And  makes  me  down  to  lie," 

to  the  children  to  analyze.  "Things  must  be  made 
hard  for  the  children  or  they  will  never  learn  what 
it  means  to  struggle,"  they  think. 

Parents  have  the  same  idea,  too.  "What — through 
with  your  lessons  already!  They  must  be  too  easy 
for  you. ' ' 

"Why  do  you  lie  back  in  your  chair  like  that? 
Sit  up  and  strengthen  your  backbone.  A  child 
should  never  touch  the  back  of  his  chair." 

201 


202  CHILD  TRAINING 

**No.  You  can't  have  warm  water  in  your  bath. 
Want  to  be  a  MoUie  altogether?  Cold  water  is  the 
thing  for  boys.    Brace  up ! " 

That's  the  idea — make  it  hard  for  the  children  so 
they  will  appreciate  the  joy  of  striving. 

The  institutions  that  care  for  homeless  children 
have  the  same  conscientious  idea.  Once  I  visited 
one,  and  as  I  sat  in  the  beautiful  reception  room 
watching  the  light  of  the  dancing  flames  flicker  over 
the  beautifully  polished  floor  and  the  shining  fire- 
dogs,  thinking  what  a  lovely  home  this  must  be  for 
the  stray  little  girls,  one  of  them  staggered  in  lug- 
ging a  big  galvanized  iron  pail  full  of  soapy  water. 
It  was  so  heavy  for  the  child  that  the  bottom  of  it 
scarcely  escaped  the  floor,  and  the  child's  effort  to 
drag  it  along  had  splashed  her  from  head  to  foot. 

*'Why  had  the  child  such  a  pail?"  I  asked. 
"Couldn't  she  have  had  a  little  paper  pail?  They 
are  so  light  and  so  pretty  the  children  love  to  work 
with  them.    They  are  quite  as  durable,  too." 

The  lady  in  charge  seemed  displeased.  "When 
that  child  goes  out  into  the  world  she  won't  find 
things  made  easy  for  her.  She  will  have  heavy  loads 
to  carry,  and  she'd  better  get  used  to  it  now." 

I  don't  agree  with  any  of  them.  Neither  with  the 
Pilgrim  Fathers  if  they  did  it,  nor  with  the  teacher 
nor  the  parents,  nor  the  institution  lady. 

The  hard  road  is  the  bitter  road  and  leaves  bitter 
memories.  The  less  bitterness  touching  the  life  of  a 
child  the  better,  I  say. 


LEADERSHIP 

One  of  the  dreams  of  childhood  has  to  do  with  the 
day  when  the  child  will  stand  forth  the  center  of 
the  world  and  command  the  hosts. 

The  little  girl  dreams  of  the  day  when  she  will 
stand  before  the  great  throng  and  thrill  them  mitil 
they  cheer  and  cheer  and  shout  her  name  to  high 
heaven.  She  may  be  singing  to  them,  or  acting,  or 
saving  the  nation,  or  making  a  great  sacrifice  for 
honor  or  duty.  Whatever  the  motive,  the  dream  of 
leadership  is  there. 

The  boy  dreams  of  the  time  when  he  shall  lead 
men.  It  may  be  at  the  head  of  a  great  industry.  It 
may  be  as  an  artist  with  a  message.  It  may  be  as  a 
soldier  or  a  sailor  or  a  great  engineer.  Perhaps 
he  is  dreaming  of  the  invention  that  wiU  revolution- 
ize the  life  of  men.  Whatever  the  idea,  the  dream 
of  the  master  is  there. 

That  dream  must  come  true  as  far  as  it  is  possible 
for  that  particular  boy  or  girl.  It  is  always  possible 
to  some  extent.    To  its  full  extent  sometimes. 

Teachers  and  parents  should  be  on  the  alert  for 
the  signs  of  the  dream  and  make  the  way  clearer. 
You  see  the  little  girl  gathering  her  group  about 
her  and  playing  theater  with  them.  Don't  laugh. 
Stay  in  the  background  and  if  the  group  holds  to- 
gether help  the  idea  along. 

This  particular  dream  that  she  has  may  not  de- 
velop, but  another  will  grow  out  of  it  all  the  richer 

203 


204  CHILD  TRAINING 

for  this  little  experience.  The  group  at  her  com- 
mand means  leadership.    Encourage  it. 

When  the  boy  organizes  a  club,  encourage  it.  It 
is  the  sign  of  leadership.  The  clutter  of  boys  about 
the  place  annoys  you.  Their  noise  bothers  you. 
You  have  troubles  enough  with  your  own  son  with- 
out gathering  in  the  neighbors'  as  well? 

Be  patient.  Be  glad  that  it  is  your  son  that  is 
doing  the  gathering.  He  is  leading.  He  is  learning 
to  carry  responsibility.    Help  him  along. 

The  lad  who  organizes  and  runs  a  baseball  team 
to-day  will  organize  and  lead  a  bigger  team  another 
day.  The  experience  he  gets  as  a  little  fellow  will 
help  him  when  he  is  a  big  fellow.  It  all  counts  in 
training  for  leadership. 

Encourage  the  children  to  plan  and  carry  out  a 
group  scheme  of  some  sort.  The  picnic  that  the 
little  girl  organizes;  the  flower  drive  for  the  hos- 
pital ;  the  circus  in  the  barn  that  the  boy  plans ;  such 
are  the  roads  to  leadership.  While  they  may  be 
rather  troublesome  to  you,  they  are  essential  to  the 
growth  of  the  sort  of  child  you  want  to  raise. 


FOLLOW  THE  LEADER 

"Fred  makes  me  so  impatient  I'd  like  to  box  his 
ears,"  snapped  his  mother,  as  she  sat  watching  the 
children  playing.  *'Look  at  him  now,  letting  that 
Baxter  boy  boss  him  around  like  a  ninny." 

''They're  playing  Treasure  Island,' '  said  grand- 
mother.   * '  I  've  been  watching  them  for  a  long  time. ' ' 

''Whatever  they  are  playing,  I  can  see  that  Fred 
is  being  ordered  about  and  doesn't  resent  it.  I'm 
going  to  call  him  away. ' ' 

"I  wouldn't,"  said  grandma,  placidly.  "Let  the 
children  alone.  They  have  had  the  sense  to  pick  out 
a  leader  and  follow  him.  That  doesn't  mean  that 
the  follower  isn  't  doing  as  much  as  the  leader. ' ' 

"Of  course,  it  doesn't.  That's  just  it.  Fred  al- 
ways does  twice  as  much  as  the  Baxter  boy. ' ' 

' '  Then  he  will  have  twice  as  much  fun, ' '  returned 
grandma.  ' '  The  Baxter  boy  assigned  the  parts.  He 
is  the  one-legged  man,  Fred  is  the  blind  man,  and 
the  other  child  is  the  little  boy  in  the  inn.  They  are 
all  having  a  fine  time. ' ' 

"Fred  always  has  a  fine  time.  The  children  all 
like  to  play  with  him  because  he  does  what  they 
want  him  to  do.  He  never  makes  them  do  what  he 
wants.  I  don't  want  him  to  be  a  follower.  I  want 
him  to  be  a  leader. ' ' 

"Exactly,"  said  grandma.  "But  Fred  was  the 
one  who  decided  that  they  would  play  Treasure 
Island.    He  picked  the  Baxter  boy  for  leader  him- 

205 


206  CHILD  TRAINING 

self.  He  knew  what  he  was  doing.  He  knew  he'd 
have  a  better  time  following  than  leading  this  time. 
He  learns  to  follow  so  he  can  learn  to  lead  another 
day. 

"His  father  was  like  that.  He  never  fought  for 
the  first  place.  He  gave  it  to  some  one  else  always, 
and  yet  he  was  the  actual  leader.  When  things  came 
to  a  crisis  it  was  he  who  took  charge  and  did  it  so 
deftly  that  the  other  lads  never  felt  it.  Fred  is  like 
his  father. 

''The  best  man  is  the  one  who  can  follow  as  well 
as  lead.    A  real  leader  has  humility  as  well  as  pride. 

''That's  what  this  country  needs  to-day.  A  great 
many  people  think  they  are  leaders  when  they  are 
really  fourth  rate  followers.  They  have  never  fol- 
lowed an  idea  to  its  end. 

"I've  heard  at  least  ten  men  sit  here  this  week 
and  declare  that  they  could  run  the  President's  job 
much  better  than  he  has  done.  And  not  one  of  them 
had  made  anything  but  a  third  rate  job  of  his  own 
office. 

"Let  Fred  alone.  He  will  have  learned  that  there 
is  a  time  to  follow  and  a  time  to  lead.  Humility  isn  't 
so  common  in  America's  youth  to-day  that  we  need 
try  to  curb  it." 


IMAGINATION 

It  is  dangerous  to  train  all  the  imagination  out  of 
a  child.  It  is,  on  the  other  hand,  dangerous  to  let 
it  run  loose.  Can't  we  find  the  middle  of  the  road? 
Can 't  we  train  our  children  to  use  their  imaginations 
to  bring  beauty  and  spiritual  grace  into  the  grayness 
of  their  honest-to-goodness  world?   We  must. 

Being  able  to  place  yourself  in  the  other  man's 
place  is  one  of  the  basic  principles  of  living.  But 
if  you  haven't  any  imagination,  of  course,  you  can't 
think  what  you  would  like  if  you  were  the  other 
feUow,  and  you  blunder  along. 

Imagination  is  at  the  bottom  of  successful  busi- 
ness. You  cannot  sell  goods  unless  you  have  the 
ability  to  think  how  the  other  man  is  going  to  look 
at  them.  You  cannot  plan  for  his  capture  because 
you  cannot  follow  his  mind  as  it  weighs  and  meas- 
ures and  decides — against  you. 

You  will  not  be  able  to  make  goods  that  will  sell 
because  you  haven 't  the  power  to  imagine  what  peo- 
ple would  like.  You  cannot  see  with  another 's  eyes, 
hear  with  another's  ears,  and  act  in  another's  place. 
You  have  no  imagination. 

All  creative  work  springs  from  a  cultivated, 
trained  imagination.  Without  it  you  can  never 
write  a  story,  paint  a  picture,  or  make  a  statue.  You 
will  never  be  able  to  write  for  the  movies  or  be  in 
them.  And — I  saved  this  to  the  last,  for  it  is  very 
important — ^you  will  never  learn  how  to  cook,  Cooks 

207 


208  CHILD  TRAINING 

who  had  no  imagination  are  responsible  for  more 
wrecked  homes  than  any  one  dreams  of. 

Imagination  is  the  very  essence  of  worthwhile 
work,  creative  work.  If  you  have  none,  you  must  be 
a  hewer  of  wood  and  a  drawer  of  water  all  your 
days,  though  you  live  in  a  palace  and  sup  on  straw- 
berries, sugar,  and  cream. 

Preserve  the  imagination  of  childhood.  Guard  it 
as  a  precious  possession.  Don't  meet  it  with  long 
faces  and  solemn  reprimands.  Use  it.  Teach  it. 
Make  room  for  it  in  the  school  and  the  home.  Lead 
the  child  to  be  a  creative  worker  if  this  essence  of 
creation  is  in  him. 

When  the  small  boy  rides  astride  a  stick  and  tells 
you  he  is  charging  upon  the  savage  lion  who  lives 
under  the  table,  be  afraid  of  the  lion. 

When  the  little  girl  dresses  up  in  the  old-fashioned 
dresses  she  found  in  the  attic  and  tells  you  she  is 
Grandmother  Bhss  come  to  tea,  serve  tea  for  the 
lady. 

When  she  makes  new  and  fearful  dishes,  encour- 
age her  to  keep  on.  She  will  learn  by  her  failures. 
When  the  high  school  girl  writes  poetry,  cheer  her 
on.    The  effort  will  not  be  lost. 

The  imagination  is  at  once  the  web  and  the  woof 
and  the  glittering  embroidery  of  life.  Treasure  it 
for  the  children's  sake. 


DUTY 

Bob  and  Davey  were  planning  a  fishing  trip.  They 
talked  about  the  bait  and  the  hooks  and  the  lines  and 
the  lunch.  It  was  all  in  the  future.  They  were  go- 
ing some  day  soon. 

''Let's  get  the  lines  and  things  ready  now,"  said 
Bob.    **We  may  as  well  see  if  they  are  in  order." 

They  went  out  to  the  shed  and  got  out  the  tackle. 
Seating  themselves  on  the  floor,  they  went  over  it 
with  loving  care.  When  the  last  knot  had  been 
smoothed  out  and  the  lines  wrapped  about  the  wind- 
ers and  restored  to  the  old  tobacco  box  that  held 
them,  Davey  sighed. 

''Wish  we  could  go  to-morrow." 

"Wish  we  could,"  said  Bob. 

"Well,  why  can't  we  go  to-morrow?'* 

"Why,  we  haven't  thought  of  going  to-morrow. 
We  haven't  got  ready." 

"The  lines  are  all  ready  and  we  can  ask  our 
mothers  for  lunch  just  as  well  for  to-morrow  as  next 
Saturday,"  insisted  Davey. 

"  I  '11  ask, ' '  and  Bob  darted  into  the  house.  ' '  Mom, 
can  I  go  fishing  to-morrow  instead  of  some  other 
time?" 

' '  To-morrow  is  the  day  you  promised  uncle  to  hoe 
his  potato  patch." 

' '  Oh,  the  potato  patch  can  wait. ' ' 

"But  you  promised." 

209 


210  CHILD  TRAINING 

''I'll  run  over  and  ask  him  if  next  Saturday  won't 
do  and  I'll  bet  he'll  say,  'Yes'." 

"Maybe  he  will.    But  I  wouldn't  ask  him  if  I  were 
you." 
*    "Why  not?" 

"He  always  keeps  his  promises  right  on  time.  I 
think  he  might  not  respect  a  boy  who  ran  from  his 
promise  and  his  duty. ' ' 

"Wish  I  hadn't  told  him  I'd  do  it.  S'pose  I  got 
to  now." 

His  mother  said  no  more  and  Bob  went  out  and 
told  Davey  he  couldn't  go. 

"Won't  your  mother  let  you?"  asked  Davey. 

' '  Oh,  yes.  She  didn  't  say  I  couldn  't  go.  But  I  had 
promised  uncle  that  I  would  hoe  the  potatoes  to- 
morrow and  I  almost  forgot  it.  I  couldn't  break  a 
promise,  you  know.    Not  even  to  go  fishing." 

"No?"  asked  Davey. 

"So  we'll  go  another  day  when  I  don't  have  to 
remember  a  promise." 

That  night  Bob  said  as  he  was  on  his  way  to  bed, 
"You  know,  mom,  it's  better  to  keep  your  word.  It 
makes  you  feel  cleaner — ^like  when  you  put  iodine  on 
a  cut." 

"Very  much  the  same  feeling,"  laughed  mother, 
"I've  had  it  myself 2" 


THE  LIE 

Jackie  had  been  playing  on  the  street.  His 
mother  met  him  as  he  turned  into  the  yard. 

*  *  Home  again  ?  Had  a  good  time  ? ' '  asked  mother, 
pleasantly. 

**Yes,  I  played  with  the  team  in  the  lot." 

"Had  a  catch  with  little  Mat,  didn't  yout"  she 
asked  cheerfully. 

**N — ^n — no,"  said  Jackie. 

Now,  his  mother  had  passed  down  the  street  and 
had  seen  him  playing  ball  with  Mat.  There  was  no 
reason  why  he  should  not  have  played  with  Mat  and 
there  was  no  evident  reason  why  he  should  have  lied 
about  it  when  his  mother  asked  him. 

''You  didn't  play  with  Mat?" 

"No." 

"You  didn't?   Why,  Jackie,  I  saw  you." 

Jackie  looked  taken  aback,  but  had  nothing  to  say. 

"Why  did  you  tell  me  such  a  story?  I  was  asking 
if  you  had  had  a  good  time.  The  afternoon  was 
yours.  You  could  play  with  any  child  you  liked.  I 
don 't  understand  you. ' ' 

But  Jackie  could  not  explain.  It  was  as  much  a 
mystery  to  him  as  to  his  mother.  But  the  answer 
was  "fear." 

Something  made  Jackie  afraid  to  tell  the  truth. 
His  instinctive  lie  was  the  gesture  of  self-defense. 
It  was  just  as  instinctive  as  the  lift  of  his  elbow  to 
guard  his  face  when  a  blow  threatens. 

211 


212  CHILD  TEAINING 

None  of  us  is  responsible  for  the  thoughts  we 
think.  They  are  bom  of  age-old  memories.  Some 
of  them  are  so  hazy  that  we  scarce  recognize  them 
as  thoughts.  Others  are  sharper  and  more  insistent 
and  prod  us  into  action  unless  we  stop  them. 

The  oldest  and  fiercest  of  these  old  thoughts  is 
fear.  It  is  the  most  powerful.  It  is  hidden  so  deep 
that  we  can  scarcely  find  its  roots.  But  we  will  al- 
ways find  it  at  the  bottom  of  the  lies  we  tell.  When 
we  deceive  ourselves  into  thinking  we  are  good  on 
the  whole,  when  we  know  we  are  wrong,  it  is  because 
we  are  instinctively  afraid  of  the  thing  we  know  is 
wrong. 

When  we  lie  to  some  one  else,  it  is  because  we  are 
afraid  to  have  them  know  what  we  know  to  be  the 
truth  about  ourselves.    We  are  defending  ourselves. 

It  was  some  hidden  fear  that  made  Jackie  tell  the 
untruth.  He  had  been  under  restrictions  of  some 
sort,  and  when  suddenly  called  upon  to  give  an  ac- 
count of  himself,  although  he  was  in  the  right,  the 
hidden  fear  rose  and  he  defended  himself. 

Courage  will  have  to  be  trained  over  the  fear.  It 
is  a  long,  slow  proeess  and  needs  all  our  patience 
and  faith. 


THE  COVETOUS  CHILD 

** Mother,  Isabelle  has  my  doll  and  she  won't  give 
it  to  me." 

**Why,  Isabelle,  you  have  your  own  doll." 

''Mine  hasn't  nice  hair,"  said  Isabelle. 

''There  isn't  a  bit  of  difference  between  your  doll 
and  your  sister's.  I  got  them  alike  on  purpose  to 
prevent  any  wrangling.  Now,  give  your  sister  her 
doll  and  don't  take  it  any  more." 

"Here,  telltale,"  said  Isabelle,  thrusting  the  doll 
at  her  sister  and  glaring  at  her. 

The  mother  sighed  and  turned  again  to  her  work. 
In  a  few  minutes  came  another  wail  of  distress. 
"Mother,  mo-ther,  will  you  please  make  Isabelle 
give  me  my  thing?  She  has  it  and  she  won't  let  me 
have  it." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Isabelle  has  my  thing.  I  laid  it  on  the  table  and 
she  picked  it  up  and  now  she  won't  give  it  to  me. 
She  says  she  found  it." 

' '  Bring  it  here.  What  in  the  world  is  it  ?  It  looks 
like  a  piece  of  an  old  bolt. ' ' 

"I  don't  know  what  it  is,  but  I  found  it  when  we 
were  out  walking  and  I  picked  it  up  and  brought  it 
home,  and  now  she  says  it's  hers." 

"The  thing  isn't  worth  talking  about.  I'm  going 
to  throw  it  out  of  the  window.  If  you  two  little  girls 
cannot  get  along  any  better,  I'm  going  to  separate 
you  until  you  will  be  glad  to  see  each  other  again." 

213 


214  CHILD  TRAINING 

But  it  was  not  long  before  another  complaint 
came.  "Mo-ther,  Isabelle  has  my  book  and  won't 
give  it  to  me. ' ' 

**Why  have  you  your  sister's  book?  You  have 
your  own." 

**Mine  hasn't  such  nice  stories  in  it." 

*'A11  right.  I'll  change  with  you.  Give  me 
yours,"  said  her  sister. 

Isabelle  hesitated.  Doubt  settled  on  her  stubborn 
little  face.  **No.  You  think  mine's  better  than 
yours.    I'll  keep  mine." 

'*No,  you  won't,"  said  her  thoroughly  tried 
mother.  "You'll  bring  it  to  me  and  have  none  at 
all.  You  want  everything  you  see  and  you  '11  have  to 
be  cured  of  it,  somehow." 

Perhaps  that  was  the  best  thing  to  do.  I've  known 
teachers  to  cure  such  children  by  making  them  a 
sort  of  Santa  who  gave  everything  to  the  children 
about  them.  One  little  boy  used  to  gather  all  the 
pencils  in  reach  and  pocket  them  until  the  teacher 
gave  him  charge  of  a  gross  of  them  and  he  lost  his 
covetous  notion  in  distributing  so  many  to  so  many 
children. 

Sometimes  stories  of  generous  givers  help.  In 
some  way  the  covetous  child  is  to  be  led  to  see  that 
it  is  better  to  give  than  to  receive.  But  it  requires 
a  lot  of  time  and  patience.  History  is  a  record  of 
the  covetousness  of  mankind.  Patient  teaching  and 
example  will  finally  help  a  child  to  put  it  imder. 


a 


THE  BOY  BEHIND  ME" 


All  parents  and  teachers  know  of  the  **boy  behind 
me".  He  is  responsible  for  all  the  bad  conduct  of 
the  good  little  child  who  sits  in  front  of  him.  The 
strange  thing  about  it  is  that  when  one  gets  to  the 
boy  behind  there  is  another  boy  behind  him,  too. 

''Jackie,  your  teacher  writes  that  you  are  talking 
a  great  deal  too  much  in  school.  Your  work  is 
falling  behind.    What  is  the  trouble?" 

''Oh,  I  can't  help  it!  There  is  a  boy  behind  me 
and  he  talks  to  me  all  the  time  and  the  teacher 
thinks  it's  me  and  I'm  the  one  that's  blamed." 

The  parent,  doubting,  yet  hoping,  writes  a  note  to 
the  teacher.  "Dear  Miss  Patience — ^Won't  you 
please  change  Jackie's  seat?  He  claims  that  all  his 
troubles  are  due  to  the  boy  who  sits  behind  him.  He 
claims  he  talks  to  him  all  day.  Won't  you  try  what 
changing  his  seat  will  do?" 

Isn't  it  strange  that  after  centuries  of  experience 
we  have  not  learned  to  shoulder  our  own  responsi- 
bilities? That  even  to  the  last  generation  of  us  we 
still  blame  the  "boy  behind  me"? 

Thomas  came  home  bruised  and  scratched  and  dis- 
playing a  decorative  effect  about  the  eyes. 

"What  has  happened  to  you,  Thomas?" 

"Aw,  the  fellow  that  lives  down  the  street  is  al- 
ways picking  on  me.  To-day  coming  out  of  school 
he  began  with  me  and  I  hit  him  back." 

Now,  any  experienced  parent  ought  to  know  the 

215 


216  CHILD  TRAINING 

answer  to  that.  Two  boys  have  an  argument,  double 
their  fists,  their  friends  cheer,  the  battle  is  on,  and 
somebody  is  going  to  get  the  worst  of  it. 

There's  really  nothing  to  say  but  ''Go  and  wash 
yourself  and  you'll  find  the  witch  hazel  on  the  bath- 
room shelf.  Some  day  you  will  grow  up  and  stop 
this  childish  nonsense. ' ' 

But  the  note  or  the  hasty  word  goes  to  the  parents 
of  the  "bo}''  down  the  street"  complaining  about  his 
annoying  "my  son". 

Better  teach  son  that  there  is  a  boy  behind  him. 
A  boy  behind  everything  he  does  or  thinks  or  feels, 
and  that  boy  is  himself.  Teach  him  that  his  brain 
and  his  body  are  his  and  under  his  control  alone. 
That  it  is  his  pride,  that  it  is  his  dignity  of  man- 
hood, he  affronts  when  he  whines  about  the  "boy  be- 
hind him. "  He  is  his  own  master ;  he  stands  or  falls 
by  his  own  hand. 

Usually  that  settles  it.  But  whatever  you  do, 
don't  write  to  the  teacher  and  the  neighbors  com- 
plaining of  that  other  boy.  They  know  the  story 
better  than  you  do.  They  may  be  too  polite  to  tell 
you  what  they  think. 

Away  with  the  "boy  behind  me'*. 


HOLD  ON 

Success  in  any  undertaking  depends  largely  upon 
knowing  when  to  take  hold,  how  to  hold  on,  and 
when  to  let  go.  Holding  on  is  the  sign  of  the  thor- 
oughbred. Once  he  has  taken  hold  he  will  hold  on 
until  he  has  finished  his  work  or  until  it  has  finished 
him. 

About  his  fifth  birthday  the  boy  begins  consider- 
ing what  he  will  do  when  he  is  a  man.  His  plan 
changes  from  day  to  day,  from  hour  to  hour.  He  is 
one  sort  of  hero  now,  another  again.  Up  to  his  ado- 
lescence he  has  as  many  roles  as  a  veteran  actor. 

Then  he  becomes  serious  about  it.  He  begins  won- 
dering as  to  his  chances  of  becoming  President  of 
the  United  States.  He  gives  thought  as  to  which 
great  corporation  he  will  head.  He  plans  to  reform 
the  world.  Sometimes  he  is  a  social  reformer,  at 
other  times  he  is  a  political  savior.  He  even  gets  as 
far  as  holding  a  couple  of  meetings  with  some  of 
his  chums.  He  is  elected  president  and  prepares 
elaborate  programs  of  action  which  he  tears  up  as 
soon  as  made. 

Then  one  day  he  is  elected  manager  of  his  school 
paper.  No  longer  does  he  consume  valuable  time 
in  planning  and  discussing.  He  is  in  earnest.  He 
knows  that  this  is  a  job  he  must  carry  through  to  the 
end  if  he  is  to  be  respected  by  his  fellows. 

He  will  need  a  word  of  praise  and  encouragement. 
Talk  to  him  about  his  undertaking.    Don't  tell  him 

217 


218  CHILD  TEAINING 

that  he  had  enough  to  do  without  taking  on  any 
extra  work  and  that  you  wonder  how  he  will  get  his 
French  lessons  done  at  all  now  when  he  has  to  put  in 
time  on  this  scheme. 

If  he  puts  this  job  through,  if  he  shows  himself 
strong  enough  to  carry  responsibility  for  his  group, 
you  need  have  no  fear  of  his  lessons.  He's  coming 
into  his  own.  Should  he  show  signs  of  weakening, 
throw  your  weight  on  the  right  side.  Teach  him  to 
put  his  teeth  into  the  thing  and  hold  on. 

One  of  our  high  school  lads  went  into  the  aviation 
department  during  the  great  war.  He  had  sho^vn 
this  power  of  taking  hold  and  of  holding  on.  "VVe 
had  no  doubt  of  his  fitness  and  his  ultimate  success. 

One  day,  when  he  was  five  thousand  feet  up, 
flames  burst  out  about  his  control.  They  wrapped 
themselves  about  his  hands,  but  he  held  on  and  be- 
gan his  descent.  The  fire  bit  his  hands,  but  he  in- 
stinctively tightened  his  hold  and  headed  for  the  sea. 
Carefully  he  guided  his  plane  to  the  water,  settled 
her  there,  and  then — ^let  go. 

When  his  hands  were  bandaged,  he  smiled  and 
said:  ''My,  I'm  so  glad  I  didn't  let  go.  Wasn't  it 
great  that  my  hands  held  on  ? " 

From  little  to  big,  train  the  children  to  hold  on; 
hold  on  until  it  becomes  instinctive,  and  they  can- 
not let  go  until  the  end.  It's  the  mark  of  the  thor- 
oughbred and  our  children  must  have  it. 


SPENDING  MONEY 

As  soon  as  a  child  begins  asking  for  money  for  his 
personal  needs  it  is  time  to  place  him  on  an  allow- 
ance. He  should  buy  his  own  pencils  and  notebooks 
and  pay  his  own  carfares,  pay  for  his  school  lunches 
and  clubs. 

In  the  beginning  there  should  be  but  a  slight  mar- 
gin over  the  actual  amount  needed  to  carry  him 
through  the  week.  But  the  margin  must  be  there  to 
allow  the  child  to  learn  to  save.  An  allowance  with- 
out this  element  is  not  truly  educational. 

Teach  him  to  keep  his  account  book  and  be  sure 
to  go  over  it  each  week-end  with  scrupulous  care. 
Not  to  scold  him  for  unnecessaiy  and  unwise  spend- 
ing, but  to  counsel  and  advise.  If  you  mistake  the 
idea  of  this  weekly  examination  and  scold  and  nag, 
you  will  teach  the  child  to  deceive  you.  Praise  him 
for  wise  spending  and  reward  it  by  giving  him  a 
quarterly  bonus  to  put  into  the  bank  with  his  own 
savings. 

The  bank  account  should  be  the  outgrowth  of  the 
weekly  allowance.  To  give  him  money  and  allow 
him  to  spend  it  all  is  to  teach  him  to  do  the  very 
thing  you  started  out  against.  You  meant  to  teach 
him  to  learn  a  sane  notion  of  spending  and  saving ; 
to  teach  him  to  know  the  place  and  the  value  of 
money  in  his  life. 

Allow  him  an  opportunity  for  generosity.  He 
may  give  too  much  to  one  appeal.    Very  well.    It 

219 


220  CHILD  TEAINING 

will  show  in  his  quarterly  deposit  or  it  will  embar- 
rass him  when  the  next  appeal  comes  to  him  and  he 
finds  he  is  short. 

He  must  not  be  allowed  to  borrow.  No  mortgag- 
ing of  next  week's  allowance.  You  are  trying  to 
teach  him  to  avoid  one  of  our  chief  faults,  living  be- 
yond our  incomes.  Make  sure  the  younger  genera- 
tion gets  this  idea. 

Encourage  the  youngster  to  add  to  his  income  by 
doing  odd  jobs  for  pay.  Here,  too,  he  will  need  your 
counsel  and  advice.  He  must  learn  early  to  dis- 
tinguish between  service  for  service's  sake  and  the 
proper  reward  for  labor  well  done. 

For  a  boy  to  take  money  for  a  service  rendered  to 
one  in  need  or  to  his  friend  is  unthinkable,  but  on 
the  other  hand  for  a  boy  to  deliver  groceries  all 
morning  and  refuse  to  take  pay  for  it  would  be 
unutterably  silly.  There  should  be  a  business  agree- 
ment before  such  work  is  undertaken  and  the  agree- 
ment should  be  scrupulously  observed. 

Girls  especially  should  be  given  strict  training  in 
accounting,  for  this  is  one  of  the  main  jobs  of  a 
girl's  life.  She  will  in  all  likelihood  do  the  spending 
and  saving  for  a  family.  Many  a  family  goes  on  the 
rocks  because  the  heads  of  thchouse  had  never  been 
taught  the  art  of  saving  and  spending.  Begin  early 
with  the  child's  spending  money. 


HOMEWORK 

**I  have  four  examples  to  do  to-night,  dad." 

*'A11  right,  bring  them  along.  Were  they  all  right 
this  morning?" 

''All  but  the  last  one.  You  left  out  the  decimal 
point. ' ' 

''I  left  out  the  decimal  point?" 

''Well,  anyway,  the  decimal  point  was  left  out. 
Maybe  I  copied  it  wrong. ' ' 

"Seems  to  me  that  you  ought  to  be  able  to  do  your 
homework  without  my  help  every  night.  Nobody 
helped  me  with  mine.  I  had  to  get  on  or  get  out. 
Bring  it  along. ' ' 

Dad  helped  him  that  night  as  he  had  done  every 
other  night.  Dad  did  the  examples  while  the  boy 
looked  on.  When  they  were  finished  the  boy  copied 
them.  He  handed  them  to  the  teacher  the  next  day. 
She  corrected  them  and  returned  them  to  him. 
Everybody  concerned  had  done  something  but  the 
boy. 

Homework  is  of  no  service  to  the  teacher.  She 
long  ago  got  all  the  training  she  could  get  out  of  it. 
Dad  had  no  need  of  it.  He  had  passed  that  stage  of 
growth  years  ago.  Only  the  boy  needed  the  experi- 
ence and  he  didn't  get  it. 

We  are  all  lazy.  None  of  us  would  do  much  of 
anything  if  we  didn  't  have  to.  We  'd  rust  out.  May- 
be that  is  why  we  have  to.  A  growing  boy  hates 
above  everything  else  to  use  his  brains  on  a  school 

221 


222  CHILD  TRAINING 

job.  If  he  can  get  you  or  somebody  else  to  do  it  for 
him,  he  wiU.  He  will  maneuver  for  an  hour  to  get 
somebody  to  relieve  him  of  a  bit  of  work,  although 
it  would  take  him  no  more  than  ten  minutes  to  do  it 
if  he  set  about  it. 

I  saw  one  the  other  evening.  He  was  supposed  to 
be  doing  his  arithmetic  for  the  next  day.  He  was 
stretched  out  in  a  chair,  feet  wide  apart  resting  on 
their  heels,  hands  hanging  limply,  eyes  off  on  the 
distant  horizon,  while  he  whistled  faintly  through 
his  teeth. 

** Thought  you  were  doing  your  arithmetic!" 

*'SoIam." 

** Never  should  have  guessed  it." 

"I'm  waiting  for  Uncle  Jack  to  come  in." 

^'Whatfor?" 

*'I  can't  go  on  till  I  know  how  many  gallons  to  a 
cubic  foot. ' ' 

"Couldn't  you  look  it  up  for  yourself  and  go  on?" 

"Yes,  but  he  knows  it." 

He  was  sitting  in  a  roomful  of  books.  All  he  had 
to  do  was  to  rise,  cross  the  room,  and  lift  a  book. 
But  he  lapsed  into  a  day  dream  and  waited  for  Uncle 
Jack. 

What  do  you  think  happens  to  the  lads  whose 
fathers  and  mothers  are  foreigners  and  who  cannot 
help  them  with  their  school  work!  I  can  tell  you. 
They  help  themselves  and  beat  the  others  to  a  stand- 
still over  and  again. 

Let  the  children  help  themselves.  Let  them  learn 
to  search  and  to  think  and  to  do  for  themselves.  It's 
not  so  much  that  you  are  spoiling  the  job  in  hand 
as  it  is  that  you're  spoiling  the  boy's  attitude  toward 
all  work.  Teach  him  to  earn  his  way.  Your  help 
but  hinders. 


THE  GOOD  SPORT 

"If"  is  such  a  comfort  to  the  lame  and  the  lazy. 
It  soothes  them  as  no  other  word  in  the  language 
can  do.  The  children  love  it  and  cling  to  it  as  an 
anchor  of  hope  until  some  flinty  hearted  adult 
frowns  grimly  and  says :  * '  Enough  of  that  *  if '  busi- 
ness.   Show  me." 

Peter  brings  home  his  report  card  at  the  end  of 
the  first  month  of  the  term  and  explains : 

**No;  I  didn't  pass  this  month.  But  it  isn't  so 
bad.  If  I  had  just  gotten  two  points  more  in  algebra 
and  one  in  history  and  a  couple  in  science  I'd  'a' 
passed.  If  only  she  had  asked  me  the  reviews,  but 
she  didn't — I'd  'a'  had  a  fine  mark  if  she  had, 
though. ' ' 

His  hopeful  mother  scans  the  card  in  the  light  of 
the  "if." 

"Well,  if  you  get  those  few  points  next  month 
you  '11  be  all  right. ' ' 

But  next  month  it  isn't  all  right.  There's  another 
"  if  "  ready,  though.  "  It 's  not  my  fault  that  I  didn  't 
get  enough  points.  If  she'd  'a'  started  at  the  right 
end  of  the  alphabet  to  ask  the  test  questions  I'd  'a' 
got  all  the  easy  ones,  but  she  began  at  the  other  end 
and  I  got  all  the  hard  ones  that  nobody  knows. ' ' 

"Seems  to  me  that  you  are  not  doing  very  well  in 
school.  Seems  to  me  you  might  do  better.  Bert  is  in 
your  class  and  he  got  'A'  this  month.  If  he  can  why 
can't  you!" 

223 


224  CHILD  TRAINING 

* '  That 's  just  what  I  'm  telling  you.  His  name  be- 
gins with  a  little  letter  at  the  beginning  of  the  alpha- 
bet and  mine  is  a  big  one  down  at  the  end.  Can  I 
help  it  if  his  name  begins  with  B  and  mine  begins 
with  S  ?    If  my  name ' ' 

That  is  too  much  for  his  father,  who  breaks  in  im- 
patiently: ''What  in  the  world  has  your  name  got 
to  do  with  it?  Put  your  mind  on  your  work  and 
you'll  get  better  ratings.  You  could  if  you  half 
tried." 

' '  Now,  don 't  blame  him.  He  couldn  't  help  it  if  all 
the  hard  questions  fell  to  the  boys  at  the  end  of  the 
alphabet,  and  his  name  begins  with  'S',''  says 
mother  gently.  ''If  the  teacher  hears  the  class  the 
other  way  round  next  time  he  may  have  a  better 
mark. ' ' 

But  the  next  month  things  are  just  about  the  same. 
Mother  looks  at  the  card  and  a  frown  gathers  as  her 
eyes  fall  on  the  ratings. 

"Why,  I  expected  a  better  card  this  month.  I  see 
no  improvement.    What  is  the  trouble?" 

"  'Tisn't  my  fault.  If  the  teacher  had  only  done 
what  she  did  last  month  and  asked  us  questions  I  'd 
'a '  had  perfect.  But  she  didn  't.  She  gave  us  a  writ- 
ten test  and  counted  everything.  She  never  does 
anything  the  way  she  did  before  and  how  can  I  telU 
If  she  would  I  'd  have  some  show. ' ' 

"Some  show,"  said  father  icily,  as  he  thumbed  the 
card.  "Some  show.  You  better  forget  about  'if 
and  learn  what  Dr.  Holmes  said :  '  To  brag  a  little, 
to  show  up  well,  to  crow  gently  when  in  luck,  to  own 
up,  to  pay  up,  to  shut  up  when  beaten.*  Try  to  be  a 
good  sport." 


THE  BAD  LOSER 

Bobbie  was  a  bad  loser.  He  loved  to  play  quiet 
games  like  Old  Maid  and  dominoes  and  checkers, 
but  unless  he  was  allowed  to  win,  the  games  ended 
in  an  uproar. 

He  would  follow  the  game  intently,  arguing  and 
scolding  and  fussing  until  the  last  move.  When  he 
found  that  the  game  had  gone  against  him  he  would 
fly  into  a  temper,  scatter  the  cards  or  counters 
across  the  room,  throw  himself  on  the  floor  or  the 
couch  and  kick  and  howl  until  some  one  came  along 
and  quieted  him. 

**Now,  be  very  careful,"  his  mother  would  warn 
the  other  children.  *'He  is  the  youngest  and  he 
doesn't  understand.  You  must  let  him  win  once  in  a 
while  just  to  encourage  him." 

But  winning  once  in  a  while  wouldn't  do.  Bobbie 
had  to  win  all  the  time  or  he  created  a  riot. 

His  mother  gave  up.  ''Bobbie,  you  have  to  learn 
to  be  beaten.  If  you  cannot  play  as  well  as  the 
others,  they  are  going  to  beat  you.  If  you  want 
to  win,  you  must  learn  to  play  better. ' ' 

*'I  do  play  better,"  howled  Bobbie.  *'I  do,  I  do, 
I  do.    They  won 't  let  me  beat  them. ' ' 

Bobbie  grew  to  be  nine  years  old  and  still  clung 
to  the  idea  that  to  be  beaten  was  to  suffer  a  great 
injustice.  He  owed  a  grudge  to  the  person  who  out- 
played him.  No  one  wanted  to  play  with  him. 
Things  were  growing  worse  and  worse,  for  every 

225 


226  CHILD  TRAINING 

time  some  one  defeated  him  and  plainly  told  him 
he  was  a  whiner  and  a  bad  loser  Bobbie  resented 
it  more  keenly. 

Then  he  went  to  a  summer  camp  with  a  group  of 
boys  who  were  strangers  to  him.  The  first  day  on 
the  playground  the  lads  were  racing.  Bobbie  could 
run  well,  but  another  lad  could  run  better.  The  in- 
structor recorded  the  fact.  Bobbie  flew  into  a  tem- 
per, flung  himself  on  the  ground,  and  kicked  like  a 
thrown  steer. 

The  boys  laughed.  So  did  the  instructor.  *'Ha, 
ha,"  jeered  one  of  the  lads ;  ''Bobbie  feels  bad.  Bob- 
bie was  beaten  in  the  race.    Poor  Bobbie!" 

Bobbie's  rage  mounted  and  he  kicked  and  cried 
harder.  ''That's  it,  Bobbie.  Kick.  You  can't  run, 
but  you  ^re  the  best  little  howler  in  the  camp.  Holler 
louder.  You'll  get  a  medal  for  something,  anyway. 
You're  the  champion  boob." 

"It's  time  to  go  for  our  swim,"  said  the  in- 
structor. "Come  along,  everybody.  All  out  for  a 
swim. ' ' 

The  crowd  raced  off  and  left  Bobbie  lying  on  the 
grass,  having  it  out  with  himself. 

Once  or  twice  afterwards  he  showed  the  inclina- 
tion to  '*bawl"  when  he  lost,  but  the  boys'  watchful 
eyes  recalled  his  performance  of  the  first  day  and 
he  let  go  quietly.  Perhaps  the  best  thing  to  do  with 
the  bad  loser  is  to  laugh  at  him  and  go  ahead  with- 
out him.  He  has  to  learn  to  lose  gracefully,  and  the 
sooner  he  begins  to  learn  it  the  better.  Then  he'll 
stop  losing  and  begin  winning. 


A  MEEE  TEIFLE 

He  was  a  handsome,  well-groomed  boy,  with 
charming  manners.  He  smiled  upon  the  teachers 
and  they  smiled  upon  him.  But  a  feeling  of  uneasi- 
ness took  possession  of  the  mathematics  teacher 
as  he  became  more  and  more  acquainted  with  him. 

There  was  the  instance  of  the  wrong  process  and 
the  right  answer.  A  problem  arranged  to  look  cor- 
rect, but  upon  analysis  betraying  the  fact  that  by  no 
possible  construction  could  it  have  brought  the  co:^^ 
rect  solution. 

''So  sorry,"  said  Worthington  when  the  teacher 
called  his  attention  to  it.  "I  must  have  copied  it  in- 
correctly. ' ' 

After  the  charm  of  his  presence  and  voice  had 
been  withdrawn  the  teacher  remembered  that  there 
could  have  been  no  possibility  of  copying  it.  It  was 
wrong — without  rhyme  or  reason. 

Then  the  grammar  teacher  noticed  that  he  and 
Eosalie  were  having  a  sociable  time  during  the  test. 
They  had  to  exchange  rulers  and  erasers  so  fre- 
quently that  she  decided  that  they  were  having  a  bit 
of  a  flirtation  and  walked  down  the  aisle  to  frown 
upon  them. 

Her  eyes  fell  upon  the  ruler  lying  on  Worthing- 
ton's  desk.  Written  in  Eosalie  *s  round,  clear  hand 
was  the  conjugation  of  the  verb  that  the  teacher  had 
fondly  hoped  would  sharpen  the  mental  teeth  of  the 
class.    Eosalie  was  an  expert  grammarian. 

227 


228  CHILD  TRAINING 

Glancing  sharply  towards  Eosalie,  the  teacher  saw 
that  the  eraser  bore  on  its  grubby  face  the  subject 
and  predicate  of  the  sentence  she  had  given  for 
analysis.  She  was  thoroughly  convinced  that  they 
were  ** communicating"  during  a  test.  A  school 
crime. 

When  the  teacher  called  Worthington  in  confer- 
ence he  had  nothing  to  say.  He  smiled  his  charming 
smile  and  said:  ''Really!  What  is  the  idea  of  the 
fuss?  Suppose  I  did  take  help  from  my  neighbor? 
I'd  do  as  much  for  anybody." 

When  his  mother  called  to  see  the  teachers  at 
their  urgent  invitation  she  was  polite,  but  bored. 

"Now,  really,  gentlemen,  don't  you  think  you  are 
making  a  great  to-do  over  a  trifle?  What  of  it? 
Didn  't  you  do  the  same  thing  ?  I  'm  sure  I  did.  The 
boy  will  be  graduated  next  month  and  you  will  have 
him  off  your  conscience,  so  why  worry  about  it?" 

She  went  away,  leaving  the  teachers  discouraged 
and  depressed.  Miss  Lavinia  said  when  they  told 
her  about  it:  "Well,  we  are  only  a  few  of  his 
teachers.  We  cannot  hope  to  win  out  against  the 
others  if  they  are  not  with  us.  His  mother  is  his 
strongest  teacher  and  she  does  not  know  that  the 
boy's  character  is  a  thing  apart  from  his  polished 
outside.  To  her  the  things  of  the  soul  are  mere 
trifles.  The  social  observances  are  all  powerful. 
She  has  him  as  she  trained  him." 

But  that  does  not  help  Worthington  nor  the  teach- 
ers. 


"I  FOEGOT'' 

**Eobert,  did  you  remember  to  take  my  message 
to  Mrs.  Kelsey  this  morning?" 

There  was  an  acidity  in  his  mother's  voice  that 
made  Robert  conscious  of  the  enormity  of  his  of- 
fense.   He  had  forgotten  again. 

''No,  mother,  I  didn't.    I  forgot  all  about  it." 

''You  forgot.  You  always  forget.  Will  you  ever 
remember?  Just  because  you  forgot,  Mrs.  Kelsey 
lost  her  day's  pay.  She  needs  every  cent  she  can 
make  for  those  children  of  hers.  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself." 

"I  am,"  said  Robert  meekly.  "I'll  go  right  over 
now  and  tell  her  it  was  all  my  fault." 

"And  that  will  pay  her  day's  wages,  I  suppose," 
said  mother  bitingly,  for  she  was  thoroughly  angry 
at  Robert  this  time. 

"I  can  tell  her  it  was  my  fault  and  I  can  pay  her  a 
day's  wages  out  my  own  money.  That's  all  I  can 
think  of.  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  if  you  don't 
want  me  to  do  that?" 

"I  want  you  to  remember.  You  forget  everything 
you  are  told  to  do.  It  makes  you  look  simple :  Yes- 
terday you  forgot  your  homework  paper.  Another 
day  you  forgot  your  card  and  it  was  not  signed  on 
time.  You  forgot  to  take  your  shoes  to  the  shoe- 
maker's last  night,  and  you  left  the  chicken  house 
door  open  again.     What's  the  matter  with  you? 

229 


230  CHILD  TRAINING 

What  are  you  thinking  about?  Do  you  ever  remem- 
ber anything?" 

A  whimsical  toiile  broke  over  the  boy's  face, 
"Yes,  I  do.    I  remember  that  I  forget." 

What  makes  children  forget?  What  can  we  do 
to  teach  them  to  remember? 

First  of  all,  don't  give  them  directions  when 
they  are  hurrying  off,  all  sails  set,  on  another  mis- 
sion. 

The  reason  Robert  forgot  Mrs.  Kelsey  was,  for 
one  thing,  because  he  was  on  his  way  to  school  and 
his  mind  was  full  of  that.  There  was  the  time  sched- 
ule. He  must  be  on  time  or  get  a  bad  mark.  There 
were  the  lessons  he  had  to  recite  and  the  games  he 
had  to  play — all  the  day's  activities  pulling  hard  at 
him. 

For  another  thing,  he  didn't  like  Mrs.  Kelsey. 
She  had  a  habit  of  giving  him  letters  to  mail  at  most 
inconvenient  times.  She  held  a  fellow  up  to  deliver 
lengthy  instructions  about  a  trivial  errand  just 
when  the  game  was  about  to  be  called.  The  idea 
of  Mrs.  Kelsey  was  shoved  one  side  by  the  flood  of 
ideas  concerning  school.  Of  course,  he  forgot  her. 
That  is  what  we  have  a  forgetting  place  for — to 
poke  all  the  unpleasant  things  into. 

If  we  want  children  to  remember  things,  we  must 
present  those  things  at  the  right  time  and  in  the 
right  way.  Don't  try  to  give  them  directions  when 
their  minds  are  fully  occupied.  Give  them  clear 
instructions  when  they  are  attending  to  you.  In- 
terest them  in  the  errand  or  the  project  by  supply- 
ing enough  of  a  background  to  appeal  to  the  chil- 
dren's emotions  and  responsibility. 

Had  Robert's  mother  told  him  about  Mrs.  Kelsey 
before  he  was  about  to  start  off,  had  she  told  him 


BUILDING  THE  CHILD'S  CHARACTER    231 

what  she  was  needed  for,  how  much  she  needed  the 
work,  Robert  would  have  remembered. 

Time  to  attend,  interest,  responsibility,  will  help 
any  one  to  remember. 


THE  SHY  CHILD 

Madge  was  a  very  shy  little  girl.  (Nobody  knows 
the  amount  of  suffering  that  shyness  entails  unless 
he  has  endured  it  himself.) 

To  ask  for  a  piece  of  bread  at  the  table  was  a 
triumph  that  made  the  hot  and  cold  shivers  run  up 
and  down  her  spine.  To  enter  a  room  after  every 
one  else  was  seated  there  was  impossible.  Either 
she  had  to  go  in  first  and  take  her  place  in  the 
shadow  of  some  friendly  bit  of  furniture  or  she 
had  to  wait  out  in  the  hall  until  some  one  else  was 
going  in  and  slip  in  behind  him. 

To  be  singled  out  for  any  reason,  to  have  her 
name  called  out  in  class,  to  have  her  funny  little 
mistakes  told  about  and  laughed  over,  was  awful. 
Her  face  grew  scarlet,  her  mouth  became  parched. 
She  choked  and  swallowed  down  her  embarrassment 
as  much  as  possible,  feeling  all  the  while  that  the 
eyes  of  the  world  were  upon  her  every  miserable 
minute. 

*' Don't  tease  your  sister,  children,"  cautioned 
their  mother.  **She  is  very  shy  and  it  hurts  her. 
Madge,  you  must  really  try  to  get  over  this.  It's  a 
very  unfortunate  failing.  You  surely  are  not  afraid 
of  your  own  people. ' ' 

Yet  Madge  was  no  coward.  She  would  go  alone 
in  the  dark  when  the  others  wouldn't.  She  sat 
bravely  in  the  dentist's  chair  when  the  other  chil- 
dren fussed  and  cried.     She  would  face  danger 

232 


BUILDING  THE  CHILD'S  CHARACTER    233 

bravely  when  it  threatened  and  did  so  when  one  of 
her  brothers  was  in  peril  of  his  life.  But  ask  her 
father  for  the  carfare  which  he  had  forgotten  to 
give  her?    Never. 

When  she  entered  high  school  the  teacher  tried  to 
help  her  overcome  her  shyness.  **You  must  make 
yourself  face  people.  You  must  make  yourself  want 
to  get  over  this.  To-morrow  you  will  recite  in  the 
chapel. ' ' 

** To-morrow"  found  Madge  with  her  back  to  the 
schoolhouse.  She  spent  the  morning  in  the  woods. 
**I  just  couldn't  get  myself  to  go  there  this  morning 
and  face  the  teachers  and  the  students,"  she  ex- 
plained.   * '  I  cannot  talk  before  people. ' ' 

She  entered  finishing  school  with  her  old  handicap 
still  strong.  The  head  mistress  sent  for  her  one 
day  and  gave  her  a  severe  scolding.  ''What  sort  of 
idea  is  this  you  have?  Do  you  imagine  that  the 
world  is  going  to  stand  still  to  see  you  go  by?  My 
child,  to  make  yourself  seen  or  heard  in  this  world 
you  have  to  be  armed  with  trumpet  and  drum. 

"Nobody  is  looking  at  you.  Nobody  is  thinking, 
of  you.  Each  one  wants  only  to  tell  you  and  show 
you  what  he  is  doing.  All  he  wants  of  you  is  to 
listen  to  him.  Listen,  then.  Get  over  this  selfishness, 
this  egotism.  Let  the  thought  of  yourself  drop  out 
of  your  mind.  Think  of  the  other  people  to  whom 
you  count  not  at  all  so  long  as  you  are  not  think- 
ing of  them. 

*'Now  there  is  a  visitor  in  the  reception  room. 
You  must  go  in  and  speak  to  him.  Take  this  book  in 
your  hand.  That  will  help  you.  Lay  it  on  the  table 
and  then  turn  to  the  gentleman  and  say,  'Good 
morning,'  and  he  will  do  the  rest." 

It  was  hard,  but  the  book  carried  her  in  and  made 


234  CHILD  TRAINING 

her  entrance  easier;  laying  it  down  gave  her  a 
chance  to  place  herself  in  the  room,  and  the  rest  was 
not  so  hard.  But  it  took  years  of  effort  and  training 
to  overcome  the  old  habit  completely. 

Try  such  a  plan  with  your  shy  child.  Always  put 
something  in  his  hand.  It  helps  one  over  the  hardest 
place.  The  contact  and  the  idea  of  some  definite 
action  give  him  the  start.  Then  keep  at  it,  kindly 
and  patiently.  Shyness  is  real  suffering  to  those 
who  are  afflicted  by  it. 


STUBBORNNESS 

Grandmother  entered  the  house  beaming.  She 
was  wearing  her  new  hat  and  it  was  very  becoming. 
The  weather  was  beautiful  and  she  was  out  for  a 
great  day.  She  was  going  to  take  her  grandson  Phil 
to  the  circus.  Philip  did  not  know  it,  and  that  was 
part  of  the  fun. 

She  pulled  off  her  gloves  and  told  her  errand  to 
her  daughter,  ending  with  a  chuckle,  and,  "You  can 
do  something  you  want  to  do  to-day  without  having 
to  think  about  him. ' ' 

*'I'm  awfully  sorry,  mother,  but  I  don't  believe 
Phil  can  go." 

''Not  go?    Why  not?    He  isn't  sick?" 

"No.  He's  worse  than  sick.  He's  stubborn." 
The  mother's  voice  was  choked  with  tears. 

Grandmother  fidgeted  in  her  chair.  She  had  felt 
her  patience  strained  on  several  occasions  when  her 
daughter  had  tried  to  establish  discipline.  Now  to- 
day of  all  days  there  must  be  this  struggle. 

"What's  the  trouble  now?"  she  said. 

"He  refused  to  eat  his  porridge  this  morning.  I 
told  him  that  he  could  have  nothing  to  eat  until  he 
ate  that  porridge  and  that  he  could  not  leave  his 
room  until  he  had  eaten  it. 

"He  is  just  as  stubborn  as  he  can  be.  I  went  to 
see  if  he  had  eaten  it,  and  he  was  laying  out  his 
good  suit  on  the  bed.  I  asked  him  what  he  was 
doing,  and  he  said  he  was  laying  out  his  clothes  to 

235 


236  CHILD  TRAINING 

be  buried  in.  He  said  he  was  going  to  starve  to 
death,  because  he  never  would  eat  that  porridge. ' ' 

Grandmother  threw  back  her  head  and  laughed. 

"The  funny  monkey,"  she  said.  ''Good  thing  he 
has  his  clothes  ready.  They'll  be  just  the  thing  to 
wear  to  the  circus. 

''And  let  me  tell  you  something.  Don't  ever  match 
your  will  against  a  child's.  Never  make  it  possible 
for  the  child  to  take  the  position  that  Phil  has  taken 
to-day.  If  he  tells  you  he  does  not  want  to  do  what 
you  say  he  should  do,  hold  to  your  point  if  it  is 
worth  while,  but  do  it  so  that  there  is  no  clash  of 
wills. 

"To  force  a  child,  to  'break  his  will',  as  it  was 
called  in  my  day,  does  harm  that  can  never  be  un- 
done. Always  leave  a  way  out  for  the  child  and 
yourself.  I'm  your  way  out  to-day,  but  don't  tempt 
Providence  again." 

When  Phil  saw  Grandma  and  heard  about  the 
circus  he  gobbled  the  porridge  and  hustled  into  his 
clothes.  He  forgot  all  about  his  difference  with  his 
mother,  who  judiciously  remained  in  the  background 
until  the  porridge  had  disappeared.  He  waved  her 
a  gleeful  "good  by"  and  went  to  the  circus. 


CKUELTY  m  CHILDREN 

Sometimes  people  say  that  children  are  cruel. 
This  is  very  rarely  true.  The  things  that  children 
do  that  seem  so  callous,  so  devoid  of  all  human  feel- 
ing, are  largely  prompted  by  their  instinctive  curi- 
osity. 

A  child  put  the  kitten's  paws  on  the  hot  stove. 
The  little  creature  screamed  and  sputtered  and 
scampered  away  to  a  comer  to  nurse  its  hurt. 

**Why  did  you  do  such  a  dreadful  thing?  Why 
did  you  want  to  hurt  the  poor  kitty?" 

*'I  didn't  want  to  hurt  her.  I  only  wanted  to  see 
what  she  would  do.  I  only  wanted  to  know  what 
would  happen." 

*'And  what  happened?" 

**She  bit  me  and  she  scratched  me.  But  I'm  sorry 
if  I  hurted  her." 

A  little  boy  pulled  the  wings  off  a  fly.  Then  he 
watched  it  crawl  along  the  table.  He  poked  it  now 
and  then  when  it  remained  quiet.  His  teacher  dis- 
covered what  he  had  done  and  was  shocked. 

*'But  1  didn't  know  it  would  hurt  the  fly.  He 
didn't  act  as  if  it  hurt  him.  I  wanted  to  know  what 
he  had  legs  for  when  he  had  wings.  I  wanted  to 
know  if  he  could  get  around  if  he  had  no  wings.  He 
can  walk,  but  he  can 't  fly. ' ' 

**And  what  else  were  you  about  to  find  out?" 

"I  wanted  to  know  why  he  had  six  legs  and  if  he 

237 


238  CHILD  TRAINING 

could  get  around  on  two  like  me.  But  I  won 't  if  you 
say  I  hurt  him." 

Another  child  was  found  clutching  a  frog  by  the 
throat  and  exploring  the  gaping  mouth  of  his  victim 
with  a  button  hook. 

"What  in  this  world  are  you  doing?  How  dare 
you  do  such  a  wicked,  cruel  thing?  Let  the  poor 
thing  go  and  tell  me  what  you  meant  this  minute." 

When  the  small  boy  mustered  sufficient  courage 
to  speak  to  his  indignant  questioner,  he  said : 

**I  wasn't  going  to  hurt  him.  I  was  trying  to 
fish  out  the  music  box  that  he  has  in  his  throat.  The 
teacher  told  me  he  had  one  in  his  throat  and  that  was 
how  he  could  make  the  noise.  I  only  wanted  to  get  it 
out  and  look  at  it. ' ' 

Most  of  the  children's  cruel  actions  are  this  sort 
of  investigation.  They  are  not  signs  of  cruelty.  The 
instinct  to  research  must  be  trained  like  every  other 
instinct.  We  must  teU  the  children  that  they  are 
not  to  touch  any  little  creature  that  way.  If  they 
have  a  question  to  ask  about  them,  ask  parent  or 
teacher,  and  he  will  show  them  the  road  to  the 
answer.    Little  folk  must  not  hurt  other  little  folk. 

Only  the  subnormal  child  fails  to  respond  to  this 
training.  He  is  the  only  sort  of  child  that  is  really 
cruel.  Take  him  to  the  child  expert  for  examination 
and  treatment.    Train  the  others. 


UNSELFISHNESS 

Every  child  should  be  given  a  chance  to  be  un- 
selfish. Many  mothers  train  their  children  to  self- 
ishness. They  do  not  intend  to  do  this ;  they  would 
feel  hurt  if  you  suggested  that  they  did.  But  it  is 
true.    They  do. 

MoUie  is  sitting  near  the  fire  toasting  her  toes 
and  eating  an  apple.  Her  mother  comes  into  the 
room  chilled  after  a  ride  in  the  sharp  air  of  a  fall 
evening. 

Mollie  jumps  up  to  give  her  mother  the  chair  in 
the  cozy  corner.  But  mother  will  not  have  it  so. 
"Sit  still,  child,  I'm  all  right  here."  And  mother 
sits  in  a  less  comfortable  chair  and  Mollie  falls  back 
in  hers,  conscience  clear,  for  had  she  not  offered  her 
chair? 

This  is  as  mother  would  have  it.  She  does  want 
the  child  to  be  comfortable  and  she  really  does  not 
care  at  all  what  chair  she  sits  in.  True!  But  she 
should  care  for  Mollie 's  sake.  If  Mollie  learns  to 
think  that  it  makes  no  difference  what  chair  her 
mother  has,  she  will  forget  to  think  about  her  moth- 
er's comfort  at  all.  If  mother  does  not  count,  who 
does  ?    Eather  bad  for  Mollie. 

Any  day  in  the  cars  you  can  see  a  tired  mother 
enter  with  a  child  clinging  to  her.  A  man  rises 
and  gives  her  his  seat.  She  smiles  her  thanks  and 
seats  the  sturdy  child  and  stands. 

Couldn't  she  sit  down  and  let  that  child  stand  be- 

239 


240  CHILD  TRAINING      ^ 

side  her,  resting  against  her  knee  ?  Why  teach  him 
that  he  may  sit  while  his  mother  stands  ?  Bad  train- 
ing for  the  httle  boy.  If  mother  does  not  count, 
who  does  1 

Mother  has  gone  without  a  new  gown  so  that 
her  daughter  may  have  the  party  dress  her  heart  is 
set  upon.  Mother  has  gone  without  so  long  that 
buying  a  new  dress  would  be  like  breaking  a  com- 
mandment.   Did  it  do  the  daughter  any  good  1 

Mother  really  deprived  the  child  of  a  good  oppor- 
tunity for  character  building.  She  might  have 
taught  her  daughter  to  share  the  pleasure  of  pretty 
clothes  with  her  mother.  She  didn't.  She  taught 
her  that  mother  did  not  matter.  Who  does  matter, 
if  mother  does  not? 

Unselfish  mothers  make  selfish  children.  It  is  not 
that  the  mothers  will  be  happier  with  the  attentions 
of  the  children.  Not  at  all.  Mothers  are  happier 
when  they  are  sacrificing  for  their  children.  But  in 
their  very  unselfishness  they  are  selfish  because 
they  please  themselves  by  doing  without  and  de- 
prive the  children  of  the  spiritual  growth  they  might 
gain  through  unselfish  thoughtfulness. 


THE  FAT  AND  THE  LEAN 

"Father  Pete  is  very  thin,"  said  Ryan  thought- 
fully. 

'*He  is,"  said  Phillips  genially,  "and  thank  his 
lucky  stars  for  it." 

"Now,  what  do  you  mean  by  that?"  demanded 
Ryan.  "Why  should  Father  Pete  have  the  flesh 
worn  off  his  bones  ? ' ' 

"For  the  good  of  his  soul,  like  you  and  me.  When- 
ever you  see  a  priest  or  a  teacher  taking  on  flesh 
there  is  something  wrong.  It  means  that  life  is  too 
easy  for  him,  and  that  means  that  he  is  not  living  up 
to  his  job." 

"You'll  have  to  prove  it  to  me,"  said  Ryan. 

"If  you  are  to  do  a  good  job  you  need  a  fine  in- 
strument. The  finer  the  instrument  the  harder  the 
grinding. 

"Take  us.  We  have  been  ground  down  to  a  fine 
edge.  There  are  the  parents,  and  the  press,  and  the 
Board  of  Education,  and  the  teachers,  and  the  chil- 
dren all  grinding  away. 

"Remember  when  we  began?  We  had  thick 
enough  husks.  I  know  mine  was  in  layers  so  thick 
that  I  couldn't  feel  the  children  or  the  parents 
either.  I  sensed  only  the  day's  routine.  Then  the 
grinding  began. 

"There  is  one  woman  in  this  district  that  I  owe 
more  than  I  could  ever  repay,  only  she  doesn  't  know 
it" 

241 


242  CHILD  TRAINING 

**Why  not  tell  Eer?"  chuckled  Eyan. 

<<  'Twouldn't  be  good  for  her  soul.  She  had  eight 
children  pass  through  my  school  and  she  took 
pounds  off  me  for  each  one. 

"Still,  I've  learned  to  be  thankful  to  the  grinders 
who  rasped  off  some  of  my  husk  and  let  my  soul 
peep  through.  There's  lots  to  come  off  yet,  but  I 
have  enemies  enough  left  to  do  the  job. 

"Same  with  Father  Pete.  He  doesn't  mind.  He's 
at  work  in  a  big  field.  He  has  a  church  and  a  school 
— two  flocks — and  I  imagine  they  press  pretty  hard 
at  times. 

"It  is  the  same  with  the  children.  They  need  a 
little  grinding,  too,  as  they  go  along.  Not  too  much 
in  one  place;  just  enough  to  trim  their  edges. 

"It's  good  for  them  to  meet  a  teacher  who  holds 
them  steadily  to  a  task.  It  does  them  good  not  to 
have  everything  they  ask  for;  expensive  balls  and 
bats  and  fine  clothes. 

"A  little  pressure  of  poverty  is  good  for  them. 
Just  enough  to  make  them  earn  their  way  through 
the  world.  Protect  them  in  the  early  years,  yes. 
But  don't  endow  them.  That's  a  great  misfortune. 
Keep  them  slim  by  judicious  grinding." 


TELL  TALE 

**Tell  Tale  Tit, 

Ought  to  have  his  tongue  slit; 
All  the  little  dogs  in  town 
Shall  have  a  Httle  bit," 

chanted  the  children  from  the  sitting  room. 

"Mother,"  whined  Sara  from  the  doorway, 
**make  them  stop  calling  me  names." 

*'Tell  Tale  Tit,"  chanted  the  chorus  derisively. 

"Mother,  do  you  hear  them?" 

"Yes,  but  why  are  you  telling  tales?" 

"I'm  not.  They're  always  teasing  me.  Make 
them  stop,  mo-ther." 

"I  think  you'd  better  go  upstairs  and  play  by 
yourself  for  a  while.    Then  they  cannot  tease  you. ' ' 

"No-o.  I  don't  want  to  go  upstairs.  I  want  to 
stay  down  here." 

"And  quarrel  and  whine  all  the  time?  No.  You'll 
have  to  go  by  yourself  and  stop  telling  tales.  Your 
brothers  and  sisters  don't  like  it  and  you  must  stop 
it.  It's  a  very  bad  habit  for  anybody  to  get  into. 
I  don't  like  any  of  my  children  to  have  it." 

Sara  went  slowly  up  the  stairs  and  peace  reigned 
imtil  tea  time.  At  the  ta,ble  everything'  jnoved 
along  serenely  until  dessert  was  served.  * '  Mother, ' ' 
piped  Sara.  "Helen  took  two  cookies.  Oo-oo!  She 
just  kicked  me,  too.    Can't  you  make  her  stop?" 

"Sara,  I've  told  you  not  to  tell  tales,    Helen,  you 

243 


244  CHILD  TRAINING 

should  not  kick  your  sister.  People  do  not  gen- 
erally kick  one  another.  Put  that  cookie  back.  Now 
both  of  you  please  try  to  eat  your  meal  in  peace. ' ' 

Helen  replaced  the  cookie,  all  the  time  glowering 
at  Sara,  who  sat  by  well  pleased  that  she  had  suc- 
ceeded in  forcing  her  sister  to  put  back  the  extra 
cookie.  Helen  moved  her  lips  in  the  old  familiar 
taunt,  '^TeU  Tale  Tit." 

''Mother,"  called  Sara,  ''she's  calling  me  names 
again.  She's  saying  it  again  under  her  breath  so 
you  can't  hear  her.    She  is." 

"Sara,"  said  her  mother,  now  thoroughly  out  of 
patience,  "take  your  plate  and  go  to  your  own 
room.  I  cannot  have  this  constant  tale  bearing. 
Helen,  do  the  same  thing.  You  should  not  have 
teased  her." 

Quiet  restored  at  last,  the  family  finished  the  meal 
in  uncomfortable  silence.  That  evening  mother  said 
to  father:  "I'm  going  to  put  a  stop  to  their  wran- 
gling. Sara  has  a  dreadful  habit  of  telling  tales  and 
the  others  tease  her  dreadfully. 

"I'm  going  to  separate  them  for  a  week.  Sara 
wiU  go  to  school  all  by  herself  and  eat  by  herself 
and  sleep  by*  herself  until  she  understands  what  she 
is  missing.  The  rest  of  them  will  miss  her  and  learn 
to  live  with  her  peaceably." 

Before  the  week  was  out  they  had  all  begged  each 
other  off.  Sara  had  begged  to  be  allowed  to  play 
with  the  others  and  they  had  begged  to  have  her 
back.  Whenever  she  started  to  say  "moth-er", 
somebody  said  "Tell  Tale  Tit",  and  she  subsided. 
Both  sides  had  learned  something. 


PERSISTENCE 

"Mom,  can  I  get  up  on  the  roof?  My  ball  is  up 
there." 

"No.  Don't  you  ever  think  of  such  a  thing. 
You  'd  fall  off  as  sure  as  fate.    Let  the  ball  go. ' ' 

"I  could  get  it  if  I  had  a  long  thing  and  pushed 
it  off,  out  of  the  window." 

"No.  Now,  do  you  hear  me?  Don't  attempt  to 
get  that  ball.   It 's  not  worth  risking  your  bones  for. ' ' 

*  *  Aw — ^mom.    I  won 't  get  hurt.    I  want ' ' 

' '  Now,  you  heard  me.  I  tell  you,  no.  Don't  speak 
another  word  about  it." 

In  a  little  while  he  came  back. 

"Mom,  I  can  get  Hen's  ladder  and  he'll  hold  it 
so  I  can  climb  up  and  get  it.    Can  we!" 

"You  can  not.  I  don't  see  why  you  can't  under- 
stand a  plain  *No'  when  you  hear  it.  I  said  you 
could  not  go  up  on  the  roof  for  that  baU.  If  you 
mention  it  to  me  again  I'll  send  you  to  bed  until  your 
father  comes  home." 

He  went  off  silenced,  but  by  no  means  hopeless. 
He  wanted  that  baU.  He  not  only  wanted  the  ball, 
but  he  wanted  the  adventure.  Climbing  along  the 
hip  of  the  roof  would  be  a  thrilling  experience. 

His  mother  went  to  the  store.  She  had  forgotten 
about  the  ball.  "I'll  be  back  in  a  minute.  Stay  in- 
side your  own  yard  until  I  get  back." 

He  did.  He  waited  until  she  was  well  on  her  way. 
Then  he  took  a  thick  rope  that  hung  in  the  cellarway. 

245 


246  CHILD  TRAINING 

The  painters  had  used  it  for  swinging  a  scaffold ;  the 
loops  and  knots  were  still  in  it. 

He  cut  off  a  piece  that  he  judged  would  be  the 
right  length.  He  fastened  it  by  a  slip  knot  about  his 
waist,  went  upstairs,  and  tied  the  loose  end  to  the 
newel  post. 

Opening  the  window  and  stepping  out  on  the 
shingled  roof  were  easy.  Keeping  his  step  along  the 
hip  of  the  roof  was  not  so  easy,  but  he  managed  to 
reach  the  ball.  On  his  way  his  foot  slipped  and  he 
slid  the  full  length  of  the  rope  and  hung  like  a  scram- 
bling kitten  just  over  the  edge. 

His  mother  came  in  view  of  the  house  at  exactly 
that  minute.  For  an  instant  she  stood  fixed  to  the 
spot.  Then  she  raced  towards  the  house  like  a  whirl- 
wind. 

But  the  lad  found  his  footing  and  climbed  back 
in  safety.  He  was  closing  the  window  behind  him 
when  his  mother  reached  his  side. 

* '  You  ought  to  be I  don 't  know  what  ought  to 

happen  to  such  a  disobedient  boy  as  you.  Now  you 
shall  go  to  bed  until  your  father  comes  home. ' ' 

All  day  she  worried  about  the  lad's  disobedience, 
defiance,  wilfulness.  I  don't  say  she  hadn't  good 
reason  to  worry.  But  one  gleam  of  light  should  have 
pierced  the  cloud  of  despair  that  settled  upon  her. 

Her  son  had  the  wonderful  persistency  that  takes 
hold,  holds  on,  and  never  lets  go  even  in  the  face 
of  seeming  destruction.  That's  a  gift  from  the  gods. 
Trained  to  usefulness,  nothing  can  beat  it. 


"I  CAN'T  FIND  IT" 

"I  can't  find  it."  Over  and  over  the  smallest  boy 
in  the  family  said  it.  He  said  it  so  often  that  nobody 
expected  him  to  find  anything.  Even  when  the  thing 
he  was  looking  for  was  in  plain  sight,  he  would  stand 
before  it  and  chant  forlornly,  "I  can't  find  it." 
Then  some  one  would  spring  to  the  rescue  and  hand 
it  to  him. 

Sudden  illness  visited  the  family  and  the  smallest 
boy  had  to  go  to  stay  with  his  aunt.  Now,  aunts 
don't  spoil  children  as  often  as  mothers  do.  This 
aunt  did  not  believe  in  spoiling  them  at  all. 

''Your  sweater  is  in  the  hall  closet.  You  had 
better  get  it,  because  it  will  be  cold  in  the  evening 
when  we  are  coming  home." 

The  little  lad  went  to  the  closet,  opened  the  door 
and  called  back  to  his  waiting  aunt,  *'I  can't  find  it." 

' '  That 's  funny.  I  hung  it  there  myseK  this  morn- 
ing when  I  unpacked  it.  Why,  there  it  is  in  front  of 
you.    Why  didn't  you  find  it?" 

*'I  didn't  see  it.  I  can't  find  things  at  home, 
either." 

"Who  finds  them  for  you  when  you  don't?" 

'  *  Somebody.  Sometimes  mother,  sometimes  some- 
body else." 

"What  will  you  do  now,  when  they  are  not  here?" 

"Find  them  myself,  maybe." 

But  he  didn't.    He  stood  helplessly  chanting,  "I 

247 


248  CHILD  TRAINING 

can't  find  it."  It  was  useless  to  send  him  for  any- 
thing. It  was  useless  to  tell  him  to  think  where  he 
placed  it  and  go  and  take  it  again.  He  couldn't 
'^find  it." 

Over  and  over  his  aunt  went  with  him  and  showed 
him  the  thing  he  wanted  close  at  his  hand.  Then 
she  decided  that  he  must  be  trained  to  see  things, 
to  look  for  things,  and  to  find  them.  She  planned 
a  lesson  for  him. 

That  evening,  when  he  came  to  the  table  for  din- 
ner, he  found  his  place  bare.  His  aunt  seated  herself 
and  unfolded  her  napkia  cahnly.  Her  place  was 
in  order.  Silver,  service  plate,  bread  and  butter 
plate,  roll,  water  glass,  complete.  His  place  showed 
a  clean  stretch  of  white  linen. 

''Your  knife  and  fork  are  in  the  silver  drawer. 
So  are  the  spoons."  He  opened  the  drawer  and 
was  about  to  call  out  **I  can't  find  them,"  thought 
better  of  it,  and  selected  the  silver  he  needed  and 
laid  it  on  the  table. 

**Your  glass  of  water  is  on  the  serving  table." 

He  found  it  promptly. 

**Your  service  plate  and  bread  and  butter  plate 
are  out  in  the  pantry." 

He  returned  promptly  with  them. 

**Your  roll  is  sitting  out  on  the  kitchen  table. 
Take  your  plate  and  bring  it  in." 

He  found  that,  too.  He  hurried  a  little,  for  his 
aunt  had  already  buttered  her  roll  and  his  appetite 
was  good. 

"That's  pretty  good  for  the  first  lesson  in  find- 
ing things.  Now  we'll  serve  your  dinner.  But  if 
you  can't  find  things  to-morrow  I'll  have  to  give 
you  another  exercise  in  looking  for  things  you 
need." 


BUILDING  THE  CHILD'S  CHAEACTER    249 

It  was  remarkable  how  soon  he  learned  to  find  any- 
thing he  was  sent  for.  ''Wouldn't  it  have  been 
dreadful  if  he  had  grown  up  not  being  able  to  'find 
it'?"  said  his  aunt. 


REAL  DISCIPLINE 

Too  often  we  think  of  a  disciplined  child  as  one 
who  obeys  instantly  when  a  command  is  given.  In- 
stant obedience  and  silence  are  likely  to  be  one  ideal 
of  good  discipline — an  outside  force  applied  to  a 
child  by  his  teacher  or  his  parents,  by  an  employer 
to  his  employee,  by  an  officer  to  his  subordinate. 

One  stormy  day  Miss  Trumpeter  could  not  get 
to  school  on  time.  The  class  had  to  wait  for  her. 
The  children  put  away  their  wraps,  took  their  seats, 
folded  their  hands,  and  gazed  ahead  at  the  black- 
boards. They  sat  in  absolute  silence  and  stillness, 
like  so  many  monuments  to  patience. 

*' That's  discipline!*'  Miss  Trumpeter  said,  in 
talking  about  it  to  her  fellow  teachers.  **Make  them 
afraid  to  do  anything  save  what  they  are  told. 
That's  the  secret." 

But  it  wasn  't  discipline.  Not  real  discipline.  Dis- 
cipline is  real  only  when  the  control  is  exercised  by 
the  person  concerned.  Eeal  discipline  is  purely  a 
personal  matter,  an  ordering  of  one's  self  by  one's 
self. 

The  commonly  accepted  forms  of  discipline  are 
exterior  things.  They  are  sets  of  inhibitions — 
**Thou  shalt  not,  for  if  you  do,  I'll  do  something 
else."  The  disciplined  one  has  given  over  his  will 
to  another.  He  does  no  thinking,  no  willing.  He  acts 
on  the  thoughts  and  according  to  the  will  of  his  mas- 
ter.   Without  orders  he  dare  not  move.    He  cannot 

250 


BUILDING  THE  CHILD'S  CHARACTER    251 

move.  He  is  weak  and  fearful,  dependent,  and  re- 
sourceless. 

Real  discipline  is  a  growth  of  self.  It  consists 
mainly  of  doing.  It  is  dynamic.  It  is  initiated  by 
the  person  concerned.  The  planning,  the  judging, 
the  deciding,  the  doing  are  his.  He  is  a  responsible, 
self -directing,  self-sustaining  individual.  He  starts, 
he  takes  hold,  he  goes  on  to  the  end.  He  measures 
his  work.  He  gains  power  for  the  next  duty.  He  is 
truly  self -disciplined. 

Whenever  you  find  that  you  have  to  say  to  a  child, 
*' Don't  do  that,"  it  is  time  to  stop  and  consider 
what  sort  of  discipline  you  are  establishing.  Beware 
whenever  you  find  yourself  saying,  ** Don't  make 
any  noise,  Don't  waste  time.  Don't  answer  back. 
Don't  tell  me  a  story.  Don't  use  my  things.  Don't 
play  with  John."  You  are  likely  to  be  wrong. 
"Don't"  is  generally  a  very  bad  substitute  for 
**Do".    Children  never  get  anywhere  on  "Don'ts". 

Whenever  you  find  yourself  saying  "Fine.  Go 
ahead.  Do  some  more.  That's  good,"  you  can  feel 
assured  that  for  that  time  at  least  you  and  the  child 
are  going  towards  the  right  road.  Doing  things  en- 
courages a  child  to  clarify  his  ideas,  leads  him  to 
organize  them  and  to  test  the  value  of  his  thinking. 
He  is  disciplining  himself  for  the  problem  of  living. 

Encourage  self-discipline.  The  self-disciplined 
child  becomes  the  self -disciplined  man. 

Discipline  means  "Do"  much  oftener  than  it 
means  "Don't". 


EESPECT  FOR  ELDEES 

The  United  States  is  one  of  the  greatest  nations 
of  the  earth.  Her  people  are  respected  by  all  the 
peoples  of  the  earth. 

Yet  the  United  States  has  no  nobility  and  no  titles. 
Our  President  is  called  ''Mister".  The  man  in  the 
street  is  called  ** Mister".  We  are  proud  that  we 
are  a  ''common  people".  Proud  that  we  have 
learned  to  value  humanity. 

Teach  this  and  its  meaning  to  the  children.  Young 
folks  are  so  likely  to  think  that  fine  dress  and  fine 
manners  and  white  hands  are  the  marks  of  fine  peo- 
ple. We  older  ones  know  that  the  real  man  lies  be- 
yond all  these. 

When  Count  Tolstoy  lived  he  was  fond  of  going 
about  in  the  dress  of  a  peasant :  Once  he  came  to  a 
great  house  at  nightfall.  The  children  of  the  palace 
met  him  and  escorted  him,  with  the  greatest  respect, 
to  where  their  parents  sat.  Then  they  were  told  who 
their  visitor  was.  They  bowed  again,  but  they  could 
show  no  greater  respect  to  the  Count  than  they  had 
shown  the  old  peasant. 

Once  in  a  while  one  sees  children  following  and 
jeering  and  hooting  some  old  person  or  some  un- 
fortunate who  has  attracted  their  attention. 

Such  children  have  not  learned  to  respect  man- 
kind. The  poorest  and  meanest  of  us  is  one  of  the 
family.  If  we  fail  to  respect  him  we  fail  to  respect 
ourselves. 

262 


BUILDING  THE  CHILD'S  CHARACTER    253 

Teach  the  children  to  respect  old  people,  the  toil- 
marked  people,  the  broken  workers  they  meet.  Each 
of  them  has  a  story  to  tell.  Teach  the  children  to 
listen.  These  folk  speak  with  authority.  There  is 
no  authority  like  that  of  age  and  experience.  No 
one  understands  a  thing  as  well  as  he  who  has 
done  it. 

Teach  the  children  reverence  for  the  gray  head 
and  the  gray  beard.  Teach  them  the  gray  is  but 
the  silver  sand  from  Father  Time's  hour  glass  which 
must  fall  upon  us  all  as  his  benediction  as  we  pass  on. 

Teach  the  children  to  stand  aside  for  age,  to  listen 
to  the  voice  of  experience,  to  respect  all  people. 

Robert  Burns  meant  something  like  this  when  he 
said,  **A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that." 

Lincoln  was  teaching  this  when  he  said,  **God  must 
have  loved  common  people — He  made  so  many  of 
them." 

It  was  what  God  meant  when  He  said,  **Man  is 
made  in  the  image  and  likeness  of  God.'* 


**HOLD  YOUE  HEAD  UP/' 

"You  have  a  beautiful  carriage,  Miss  Lavinia," 
said  the  youngest  teacher  to  the  oldest  one.  "I  wish 
I  could  carry  my  head  that  way  and  have  such  a  fine 
line  down  my  back.    But  I  can't." 

Miss  Lavinia  looked  pleased.  **I  hope  I  have," 
she  said.  ''And  if  I  have  it  is  because  my  mother 
kept  at  me  day  after  day  until  I  was  quite  grown  up. 
Every  morning  when  I  started  for  school  she  would 
go  with  me  to  the  door  and  watch  me  go  to  the  gate. 
When  I  reached  the  gate  she  would  say,  'Hold  your 
head  up.' 

* '  You  know  that  has  meant  a  lot  to  me.  By  and  by 
I  listened  for  that  little  speech.  I  waited  for  it. 
Carried  it  away  with  me  to  last  through  the  day. 

"When  I  was  grown  up  and  had  started  to  teach, 
things  were  not  easy  for  me,"  and  Miss  Lavinia 
smiled  at  the  youngest  teacher.  ' '  The  children  were 
hard  to  manage,  the  supervisor  was  exacting.  I  was 
often  very  tired  and  discouraged  and  on  the  point  of 
giving  up. 

"But  in  the  morning  my  mother  would  come  with 
me  to  the  door  and  wait  until  I  reached  the  gate 
and  say,  'Hold  your  head  up.'  And  I'd  go  on  for 
another  day. 

"I  lost  her  years  ago,  but  I've  never  lost  that  bit 
of  teaching.  Whenever  things  are  going  against 
me,  I  can  hear  her  just  as  distinctly  as  ever:  'Hold 
your  head  up.* 

254 


BUILDING  THE  CHILD'S  CHARACTER    255 

**You  know,  lifting  your  head  and  carrying  it 
high,  like  a  prancing  horse  on  parade,  gives  you  a 
wonderful  lift.  Acts  like  a  tonic.  You  can't  go 
down  into  the  depths  if  you  hold  your  head  up. 

**It  did  more  for  me  than  give  me  a  straight  back 
and  a  good  carriage.  I'm  grateful  for  them,  of 
course,  but  I  'm  more  grateful  for  the  lift  it  has  given 
my  life.  I'm  always  going  to  hold  my  head  up." 
And  Miss  Lavinia  smiled  again  and  patted  the  hand 
of  the  youngest  teacher. 

Do  you  try  to  give  your  child  a  good-day  mes- 
sage that  will  help  him  carry  through  the  day?  It 
is  only  a  little  thing  for  you  to  do,  but  it  means  a 
great  deal  to  a  child. 

If  you  haven't  such  a  message,  try  Miss  Lavinia 's 
*  *  Hold  your  head  up ' '.  The  world  looks  better  when 
one  looks  up.  There's  the  arch  of  the  sky  that 
speaks  of  the  immeasurable  heights,  and  the  sun- 
shine that  makes  for  gladness,  and  the  clouds  that 
drift  by  and  whisper  day  dreams.    All  above  us. 

''Hold  your  head  up."  It  will  strengthen  your 
child's  backbone  and  broaden  his  horizon. 


THE  HOLE  IN  THE  HEDGE 

**I  saw  your  boy  starting  off  early  this  morning, 
Phillips.    Where  was  he  going?'* 

'*I  don't  know,"  said  Phillips  meditatively,  with 
a  calculating  look  at  a  clump  of  larkspur. 

**You  don't  know?  Man,  do  you  mean  to  tell  me 
that  you  let  that  boy  go  off  for  all  day  without  tell- 
ing you  where  he  was  going?" 

**Just  that,"  and  Phillips  thrust  his  spade  close 
to  the  clump  of  larkspur. 

''You're  clean  crazy  sometimes,"  snapped  the 
professor. 

"Maybe  yes,  and  maybe  no.  You  see  I  left  a 
gap  in  the  hedge  for  him :  I  let  him  go  off  to  spend 
this  day  exactly  as  he  wished  without  asking  him 
anything  about  it.  It  is  a  wise  thing  to  do  some- 
times. 

''See  that  sweep  of  evergreens?  I  planted  them 
there  to  keep  off  the  storms.  But  you  notice  I  have 
left  it  open  on  the  side  toward  the  sun. 

"Now  this  larkspur  is  asking  for  the  open.  It 
has  been  too  closely  shut  in.  It  needs  the  break  in 
the  hedge.  It  must  see  out.  If  it  wants  to  wander 
off  into  the  byways  it  will  do  so,  you  know.  It  will 
send  out  its  roots  and  its  seeds.  I'll  be  left  with  the 
dead  plant.    I  'm  moving  it  to  the  break  in  the  hedge. 

"Children  are  just  like  plants.  We  hedge  them 
in  against  the  storm,  but  we  must  leave  the  break 
in  the  hedge  so  they  can  wander  out  into  the  open 

256 


BUILDING  THE  CHILD'S  CHARACTER    257 

towards  the  sunny  side.  Keep  the  break  toward 
the  sunny  side.  Sometimes  their  fancies  stray  out- 
side the  hedge  and  they  want  to  see  what  lies  out- 
side. Keep  the  hedge  open  for  them.  It  spells  free- 
dom. ' ' 

**Yes.  But  perhaps  they  will  be  caught  in  the 
storm  that  you  tried  to  protect  them  against.  They 
will  be  beaten  and  broken  by  the  winds  and  there 
will  be  no  sheltering  hedge, ' '  argued  the  professor. 

** Tossed  a  bit,"  assented  Phillips.  ''But  they  will 
make  for  the  friendly  hedge  when  they  feel  the 
storm.  Look  here,"  and  he  led  the  way  to  the  sunny 
side  of  the  hedge.  Snuggled  serenely  under  it  lay 
a  host  of  dainty  wildflowers. 

*  *  You  see  they  found  the  break  in  their  hedge  and 
went  out  into  the  world  to  see  what  they  could  see. 
And  they  snuggled  into  the  shelter  of  the  friendly 
hedge.  No  harm  came  to  them.  They  were  true 
children  of  their  fathers,  true  to  their  training. 

**Just  the  same  with  children.  Hedge  them 
against  the  storm  but  don't  forget  to  leave  the  gap 
wide  enough  for  them  to  get  into  the  open.  Pro- 
tection isn  't  incarceration,  you  know.  Keep  the  way 
open  towards  the  sunny  side,"  and  he  lifted  the 
clump  of  larkspur  and  set  it  over  against  the  sun. 


PART  IV 

MORAL  TRAINING 


BOOK  MOEALITY 

''What  the  children  need  is  moral  training.*' 
*  *  Put  the  Bible  in  the  schools. "  * '  Teach  right  ideals, 
clear  thinking,  right  living. ' '  From  all  sides  comes 
the  demand,  *' Teach  morality." 

Often  the  plea  arises  from  a  fear  not  quite  de- 
fined. Sometimes  it  is  a  plea  from  a  mother  whose 
child  is  going  wrong.  At  times  it  is  the  cry  of  the 
propagandist  or  the  insinuation  of  the  faddist.  But 
repeatedly  it  comes  from  the  earnest  teacher,  who 
feels  that  the  children  are  not  getting  an  essential 
quality  of  their  education. 

"We  are  here  primarily  to  teach  for  character 
building.  The  results  are  not  the  best.  Give  us 
something  that  will  feed  the  starving  souls  of  our 
children. '  * 

''You  may  read  a  short  selection  from  the  Bible 
every  morning,  but  of  course  make  no  comment 
upon  it. ' ' 

"Emphasize  the  great  and  good  men  whose  lives 
are  examples  for  youth.    Emulation  is  the  thing." 

"Here  is  a  code  of  morality.  We  have  worked  it 
down  to  the  finest  point.  There  are  ninety-two 
points  to  be  checked  up.  Let  the  children  rate  them- 
selves on  this  standard." 

But  the  thoughtful  teacher  is  merely  dismayed 
at  this  array  of  moral  mechanics.  She  knows  that 
the  way  does  not  lie  there.  She  says  sadly,  "Book 
morality  does  not  seem  to  get  down  very  deep." 

261 


262  CHILD  TRAINING 

Book  morality  never  did.  Man's  salvation  lies  in 
his  hands.  To  make  an  idea  real,  to  make  it  part  of 
a  child's  being,  it  must  go  in  by  way  of  his  ten  fin- 
gers. Character  was  never  formed  by  talking.  It 
is  always  made  through  doing  something. 

If  you  would  teach  a  little  child  to  love  and  protect 
the  birds,  you  may  tell  him  all  the  beautiful  stories 
your  mind  will  hold.  That  will  interest  him  mildly, 
but  it  won't  make  him  alive  to  the  bird  question. 

But  after  you  have  told  him  about  the  bluebird  and 
have  him  all  worked  up  about  his  beauty  and  his 
usefulness  and  his  daily  danger  of  death  in  the  form 
of  cats  or  sparrows  or  what  not,  just  let  him  crys- 
tallize that  emotion  in  the  building  of  a  house  for 
the  bird  of  his  heart,  and  see  what  happens. 

When  he  has  sawed  and  hammered  and  nailed 
and  pulled  apart  and  put  together  again;  when  he 
has  hammered  his  thumb  and  blistered  his  hands 
and  skinned  his  knees  in  the  doing  of  it;  when  at 
last  he  sees  his  tenants  move  in  and  occupy  the  house 
of  his  labors,  bird  protection  has  become  a  clear  no- 
tion for  him.    He  has  ''seen  it  plain". 

You  can't  teach  morality  by  preaching.  The  child 
has  to  do  something  about  it.  Every  clean-cut  job 
he  executes  is  a  fine  lesson  in  morality,  whether  it 
is  building  a  bird  house  or  sharpening  a  pencil.  *  *  Do 
it  and  do  it  right"  will  teach  more  morality  in  an 
hour  than  a  lifetime  of  talking.  Put  it  in  through 
his  hands. 


THE  BIBLE 

"I^m  anxious  to  have  my  children  love  good  lit- 
erature. They  have  too  much  comic  supplement  and 
not  enough  better  reading.  Which  book  of  all  the 
books  would  you  say  the  children  should  have  as  a 
standard?" 

The  Bible.  When  you  ask  for  but  one  book  for 
the  children  there  is  but  one  book  that  will  answer 
— The  Book.  There  is  none  other  that  will  serve  the 
children  better,  last  longer,  and  enrich  their  minds 
and  souls  more  than  will  this  old  Bible. 

I  don't  mean  that  the  children  should  be  taught 
to  approach  it  with  bated  breath  and  in  austere  rev- 
erence and  only  on  Sunday  afternoons.  It  is  that 
sort  of  thing  that  drives  children  away  from  the 
Bible. 

Many  an  adult  shudders  at  the  memory  of  the 
long  afternoons  of  suffering  he  endured  in  the  shad- 
owed room  while  some  solemn-faced  grown-up  read 
long  psalms  in  a  dull,  expressionless  voice  and  told 
him  it  was  for  his  soul's  sake. 

I  would  like  to  give  the  children  a  great  big  old- 
fashioned  Bible,  the  sort  that  used  to  lie  on  the  cen- 
ter table  in  the  parlor.  It  has  very  large  print  and 
many  brightly  colored  pictures.  The  children  like 
to  take  a  book  like  that  and  lie  down  on  the  floor 
with  it  and  turn  its  pages  over  and  over.  Occa- 
sionally they  will  ask  you  to  read  to  them  about  the 
picture,  and  you  do  so,  just  as  you  would  read  any 

263 


264  CHILD  TRAINING 

beautiful  story,  and  let  it  go  at  that.  You  don't  try 
to  amplify  the  story.  You  can't  do  it  because  they 
are  perfect. 

The  children  will  immerse  themselves  in  the 
poetry  and  the  pageantry  and  literature  of  the  Bible. 
They  will  love  the  stories  like  those  about  the  Flood 
and  Isaac  and  Jacob  and  Joseph  and  his  brothers. 

When  they  read  the  story  of  the  Flood  they  will 
love  best  the  building  of  the  boat  and  the  long  pro- 
cession of  animals  marching  in  two  by  two,  and  they 
will  glow  with  the  exclusiveness  of  it  all.  No  sym- 
pathy for  those  left  behind  enters  their  minds.  This 
sort  of  interest  troubles  you.  It  need  not.  To-day, 
they  think  of  the  animals  marching  two  by  two  in 
the  way  they  themselves  love  to  march.  They  think 
of  the  rain  pouring  down  and  pouring  down  and 
pouring  down,  and  they  chuckle  with  glee  at  the 
thought  of  their  friends  safe  and  snug  inside.  But 
in  the  to-morrow  you  would  provide  for  they  will 
remember  that  *  *  Noah  walked  with  God. ' ' 

Children  taught  to  use  the  Bible  in  this  way  will 
form  a  taste  for  fine  literature,  beautiful  language, 
heroic  living  (there  were  giants  on  the  earth  in  those 
days)  that  wiU  stand  the  assaults  of  the  comics  and 
the  movies.  These  may  have  their  place,  but  they 
will  not  sink  far  into  minds  that  have  been  founded 
upon  the  Word  of  God. 


HONOR  THY  FATHER 

The  commandment  was  given  to  the  childre-i,  but 
their  obedience  to  it  was  made  dependent  upon  the 
parents.  Unless  fathers  and  mothers  are  the  sort 
that  children  can  honor,  what  are  the  children  to 
do  ?  Many  a  child  has  struggled  manfully  to  honor 
those  to  whom  no  honor  was  due,  only  to  fail  in  the 
trying. 

Children  watch  and  listen.  Most  of  what  they 
see  and  hear  sinks  deep  into  their  minds,  and  al- 
though they  have  no  words  for  them,  the  ideas  are 
safely  planted.  They  but  wait  until  experience 
catches  up  with  impression,  when  they  are  all  made 
clear.  Eighteen  understands  what  uncomprehend- 
ing eight  took  in  with  avid  curiosity  and  little  appre- 
ciation. 

**Yes,  I  know  I  told  you  that  I  would  take  you 
next  time,  but  I  can't.  You'll  have  to  wait  until 
later." 

That  child  remembers  that  you  did  not  keep  your 
word.    Do  you  think  he  will  honor  you? 

**You  have  a  bad  cold.  You  must  get  into  bed  at 
once.  No,  I  can't  stay  with  you  because  I  have 
tickets  for  the  show  to-night.  You'll  get  along  all 
right.    Just  ring  that  bell  if  you  want  anything. ' ' 

Some  day  this  child  will  remember  that  you  never 
put  aside  your  pleasure  for  his  needs,  even  when 
he  was  little  and  very  sick  and  dependent  upon  you. 
Think  he  will  honor  you? 

265 


266  CHILD  TRAINING 

"Put  up  that  thing.  I  don't  care  whether  you 
have  to  practice  or  not.  Put  it  up,  I  tell  you.  If 
you  make  another  sound  on  it,  I'll  slap  you  well." 

You  had  no  right  to  disregard  the  child  in  that 
way  at  all.  He  should  have  been  allowed  to  practice 
on  his  horn.  You  could  have  sent  him  to  a  room  by 
himself.  You  had  no  right  to  slap  him  for  such 
a  thing.  It  was  pure  bullying.  You  felt  stronger 
than  he,  that  was  all.    Think  he  will  honor  you? 

"Guess  you  can  buy  your  car  now,  lady.  I  made 
a  killing  to-day." 

"Oh,  is  that  sol  How  did  you  ever  do  it,  you  old 
dear!" 

"Caught  old  Tonks  off  guard.  Home  sick.  I 
gobbled  up  one  of  his  orders.  He  '11  be  furious  when 
he  comes  back  and  finds  it  out. ' ' 

"Well,  his  misfortune  is  our  good  luck.  I'll  go 
after  the  car  to-morrow." 

The  Kttle  pitcher  at  the  side  of  the  table  listening 
with  wide  ears  watched  your  faces  and  stored  the 
memory  away.  He'll  remember  all  about  that  car. 
Think  he'll  honor  you? 

For  the  commandment  was  given  to  the  children, 
but  the  obedience  was  laid  on  their  parents.  Chil- 
dren honor  only  those  to  whom  honor  is  due.  Grown 
folk  may  shower  their  honors  upon  the  mighty  who 
may  return  them,  but  the  children  hold  to  the  hon- 
orable side  and  bestow  theirs  only  where  they  have 
been  earned. 

Pity?  Love?  Yes.  Upon  the  just  and  the  un- 
just. But  honor?  No.  That  they  bestow  only  upon 
the  honorable. 


GOD'S  NAME 

The  boys  were  playing  ball  in  the  playground,  and 
now  and  again  one  of  them  would  swear.  Their 
voices  reached  the  school  master,  and  a  look  of  pain 
crossed  his  face.  Then  he  closed  the  windows  that 
opened  on  the  green. 

**The  old  man  closed  his  windows.  He  heard  us 
swearing,  I'll  bet.  We'd  better  cut  it  out,  anyway. 
It's  raw,"  said  one,  and  the  others  agreed  in  silence. 

When  they  filed  into  chapel  the  next  day  the 
master  held  them  after  the  exercises  and  said : 

''I  want  to  tell  you  a  story.  It  is  a  story  about 
yourselves. 

*  *  Once  this  world  you  live  on  was  a  mass  of  molten 
metal  fresh  from  the  forge  of  God.  There  was  no 
visible  life  upon  it  or  in  it,  but  it  was  there,  for  God 
was  there,  and  God  is  life. 

**  Swathed  in  steaming  mists,  drenched  with  tor- 
rents of  water,  the  great  mass  cooled  slowly  and, 
like  a  thin  veil,  a  scum  gathered  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.    Life  had  begun  to  evolve. 

"The  struggle  for  existence  became  a  terrific 
struggle.  Plants  grew  until  they  outgrew  their  size 
and  strength,  and  then  they  died  and  returned  into 
the  ground.  Monstrous  animals  grew  and  attained 
their  full  growth  and  power,  and  returned  to  their 
place  in  the  ground. 

**In  the  midst  of  the  sweating,  grinding,  strain- 
ing struggle  for  a  place  in  this  world,  a  tiny  creature 

267 


268  CHILD  TRAINING 

appeared,  creeping  his  way  about  on  the  floor  of 
the  earth.  He  had  neither  wings  nor  talons  nor 
teeth  nor  claws  nor  armor  to  defend  himself  against 
the  attack  of  the  wild  creatures  around  him.  He 
was  the  weakest,  the  most  helpless  of  all  God's  crea- 
tures physically.     This  was  Man. 

**But  God  gave  him  advantage  over  the  beasts. 
He  gave  him  a  pair  of  hands  and  a  brain  to  lift  him- 
self off  the  earth,  out  of  the  slime.  He  breathed 
His  spirit  into  him  and  made  him  a  part  of  the 
Infinite,  so  that,  when  he  had  outgrown  his  body  and 
bones  and  they  went  back  to  the  earth  the  spirit 
of  him  should  return  to  the  Infinite,  back  to  God  who 
gave  it. 

**  To-day,  as  on  the  first  day,  you  lie  cradled  in 
the  hand  of  God.  Helpless,  absolutely  dependent 
upon  the  shelter  of  the  divine  hand.  Yet  you  can 
utter  His  name  in  vain?  You  use  the  name  of  the 
Father  of  all  men  as  a  byword?  Do  not  do  this, 
for  it  is  written  in  the  experiences  of  the  ages,  *  Thou 
shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God  in  vain ; 
for  the  Lord  wiU  not  hold  him  guiltless  that  taketh 
His  name  in  vain.'  " 


BAD  LANGUAGE 

When  a  child  uses  what  his  playmates  call  **  lan- 
guage", the  best  thing  to  do  is  ignore  him,  especially 
if  he  is  a  httle  fellow  just  learning  to  talk.  Send 
him  off  to  the  other  side  of  the  room  to  find  some- 
thing you  discover  you  must  have  immediately. 
Change  his  work.  Change  his  idea.  Say  nothing 
about  the  ''bad  word". 

When  you  make  a  '  *  to-do ' '  about  the  thing,  he  re- 
members it  longer.  Talking,  especially  the  emphatic 
talking  one  does  when  one  is  excited  about  such  a 
thing,  strengthens  the  phrase  in  the  child's  mind. 
You  have  surrounded  it  with  the  dramatic  atmos- 
phere that  preserves  it  and  keeps  it  alive.  Silence 
and  a  change  of  activity  go  a  long  way  towards 
eliminating  the  expression  from  his  mind. 

But  if  he  is  older?  You  have  a  more  difficult  task 
on  your  hands. 

The  older  boy  who  uses  ''language"  has  in  all 
probability  heard  it  used  daily.  He  hears  his  own 
people  using  strong  words  and  he  naturally  adopts 
them.  He  uses  the  tongue  of  his  people ;  thinks  as 
they  think,  does  as  they  do,  speaks  as  they  speak. 

A  boy  raised  in  a  family  where  courtesy  of  word 
and  deed  is  the  rule  will  not  use  rude  speech.  He 
will  make  slips  now  and  again  and  a  gentle  admoni- 
tion will  suffice.  There  is  no  danger  of  his  having 
a  set  habit  of  bad  language. 

The  older  boy  who  uses  the  objectionable  words 

269 


270  CHILD  TRAINING 

is  generally  following  somebody's  example.  The 
remedy  is  simple.  Change  the  example  and  he  will 
change  his  ways. 

Sometimes  the  heads  of  the  house  differ  on  mat- 
ters like  these.  Father  indulges  in  strong  language 
and  thinks  that  his  son  won't  pay  attention  to  it. 
*  *  He  is  but  a  child  and  children  should  do  what  they 
are  told  to  do  and  never  mind  what  their  parents 
do.  A  man  cannot  always  watch  his  words  and  weigh 
his  speech,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. ' ' 

Mother  implores  him  to  be  careful.  She  tells  him 
that  the  child  hears  him  and  that  he  does  remember, 
and  that  she  is  trying  to  teach  him  not  to  use  such 
language. 

**I  cannot  teach  him  that  his  father  is  wrong.  Do 
be  more  careful  of  what  you  say  and  do." 

Divided  thought  in  the  management  of  the  chil- 
dren is  bad  for  them.  It  is  easier  to  teach  a  child 
bad  language  than  it  is  to  unteach  it  once  he  has 
learned  it.  There  should  be  but  one  idea  of  this,  just 
one  standard. 

The  best  way  to  teach  a  child  good  language  is 
to  allow  him  to  hear  it  constantly.  Brought  up  on 
clean,  fine  language,  he  will  use  it.  Language  is 
mainly  a  matter  of  imitation. 


THE  ALL-SEEING  EYE 

Three-year-old  Billie  did  what  all  three-year-old 
Billies  have  done  since  Adam  was  a  boy.  He  slipped 
unostentatiously  into  the  pantry  and  lapped  up  the 
contents  of  a  glass  of  jam. 

His  mother  saw  the  smeared  hands  and  face  and 
clothes  and  said :  **  Why  did  you  take  the  jam  with- 
out asking?" 

*'If  I  asked  you,  you'd  say,  'No',''  said  Billie, 
'*so  I  didn't  ask." 

**But  that  was  very  wrong.  You  know  that  if  it 
were  right  for  you  to  have  the  jam  I  would  not  say 
*No'.    I'd  say 'Yes'. 

* 'Besides  that,  you  went  in  by  the  side  door  so 
that  I  could  not  see  you,  so  you  must  have  known 
that  you  were  doing  wrong." 

"Yes,"  sighed  the  culprit  dolefully. 

''Billie,  you  must  remember  that  when  you  do 
wrong  you  cannot  hide  it.  If  I  do  not  see  you,  God 
sees  you.    You  can  never  hide  from  Him. " 

A  few  days  later  BilUe  's  mother  heard  a  sound  in 
the  pantry.  Billie  should  have  been  in  the  garden. 
Then  who  could  be  in  the  pantry?  She  stepped 
lightly  to  the  window  and  peeped  through  the  shut- 
ters. There  stood  Billie,  the  jam  jar  on  the  chair, 
dipping  his  fingers  in  and  licking  them  clean  as  he 
drew  them  out  dripping  with  sweetness. 

After  two  or  three  good  dips  he  went  to  the  open 
door  and  looked  searchingly  towards  the  sky.    Seem- 

271 


272  CHILD  TRAINING 

ingly  satisfied  he  smiled  and  returned  to  his  jam 
pot.    ** Didn't  see  me  that  time,"  said  he  cheerily. 

His  mother  called,  ''Billie,  come  here." 

With  a  hasty  last  dip  and  lick  and  an  inclusive 
wipe  over  face  and  clothes,  he  answered,  **I'm  com- 
ing." 

He  marched  around  the  house  and  stood  before 
his  mother  smeared  from  ear  to  ear,  from  head  to 
foot,  with  sticky  red  jam.  He  held  his  sticky  fingers 
wide  apart  and  licked  around  his  mouth  to  loosen  its 
fast  setting  stiffness. 

**Billie,  you  have  been  at  the  jam  again." 

**Who  told  youf  God  couldn't,  because  I  watched 
the  whole  time  and  He  wasn't  looking." 

*'But  you  don't  have  to  see  Him.  He  sees  you. 
See,  the  jam  jar  is  empty.  That's  because  you  ate 
the  jam.  The  jam  can't  be  there  and  in  your  stom- 
ach, too. 

''When  it  rains  you  get  wet.  When  it  snows  it 
chills  you.  When  you  play  with  the  sharp  knives 
in  the  drawer  they  cut  you.  When  you  eat  the  jam 
is  smears  you.  That 's  what  I  mean  when  I  say  you 
can't  hide  from  what  you  do.  God  sees  and  won't 
let  you." 

'*0h,"  said  Billie  dejectedly. 

Children  are  irreverent.  They  don't  understand. 
Be  patient  and  teach  them. 


SUNDAY   SCHOOL 

** Where  are  you  going,  Peter?" 

"To  Sunday  school." 

''So'm  I.    Wish  I  wasn't." 

"Why  don't  you  stay  home,  then?" 

"Can't.    Got  to  go." 

"Who  makes  you?" 

"My  father  and  mother.    Don't  yours?" 

"Nope.  They  said  I  could  go  if  I  wanted  to.  I 
don't  have  to." 

"Wish  somebody 'd  say  I  didn't  have  to  go.  Bet 
I  wouldn't." 

* '  Tell  your  folks  you  don 't  want  to.  Maybe  they  '11 
let  you  stay  out." 

So  George  told  his  father  and  mother  that  Peter's 
father  and  mother  didn't  make  him  go  to  Sunday 
school,  but  he  went  anyhow,  and  he  wished  they'd 
say  he  didn't  have  to  go  if  he  didn't  want  to — and 
although  that  sounds  very  much  mixed  up,  George 's 
parents  understood. 

"You  wouldn't  go  at  all  if  we  didn't  make  you 
go?"  asked  his  mother. 

"No,  I'd  never  go." 

"Very  well.  You  needn't  go,"  said  his  mother 
calmly,  and  buried  herself  in  her  newspaper. 

George  gazed  unbelievingly  at  the  back  of  the 
newspaper,  but  as  nothing  more  was  said,  he  went 
out  and  called:    "Hey,  Pete.    I  don't  have  to  go 

273 


274  CHILD  TRAINING 

any  more,  either.  Mom  says  I  don't  have  to  go  to 
Sunday  school  if  I  don't  want  to." 

**Hiih,"  said  Pete,  struggling  with  a  shoestring, 
**what  of  it?" 

The  next  Sunday  George  watched  his  sister  get- 
ting ready  for  Sunday  school.  He  made  elaborate 
preparations  for  staying  at  home.  Nobody  noticed 
him  except  to  say  '*good-by"  pleasantly  as  each  left 
the  house  to  go  to  the  church. 

He  read  for  a  few  minutes,  but  the  silent  house 
made  him  restless.  He  went  into  the  garden  and 
pulled  a  couple  of  weeds.  Then  he  went  to  the  gate 
and  looked  down  the  silent  street  toward  the  church. 

** Suppose  they're  singing  now  and  soon  Bud  will 
be  taking  up  the  collection  we  made  for  those  Chinese 
kids.  And  I  have  the  most  money.  But  I'll  send  it 
in.    I'm  glad  I'm  not  going  any  more." 

Then  he  yawned.  He  looked  up  and  down  the 
street.  No,  there  were  none  of  his  friends  to  play 
"with.  He  yawned  again.  Sunday  was  a  dull  day. 
A  very  dull  day.  Still,  this  was  better  than  going  to 
Sunday  school.    Oh,  yes.    Lots  better. 

Next  Sunday  George  got  his  papers  and  books  to- 
gether and  went  to  Sunday  school.  He  caught  up  to 
Peter  on  the  way. 

**0h,  hullo.  Thought  you  weren't  coming  any 
more?" 

"Oh,  I'm  going  to  go  once  in  a  while.  I  don't 
have  to  go,  you  know. ' '  And  George  strutted  along 
in  the  pride  of  his  free  will. 


YOUR  CHILD'S  SUNDAY  SCHOOL 

**Come,  Robert,  it's  time  for  you  to  get  ready  for 
Sunday  school." 

*'0h,  pshaw!"  growled  Robert.  ''I'm  not  going 
to  Sunday  school  any  more." 

' '  What  ?  Of  course  you  are.  I  am  amazed  to  hear 
you  talk  like  that.    Get  ready  this  minute. ' ' 

Robert  grunted  and  grumbled  to  himself  and 
finally  started  off  ten  minutes  late. 

*'Now  don't  let  me  have  to  tell  you  about  this 
any  more.  I  want  you  to  get  ready  for  Sunday 
school  as  regularly  as  you  do  for  day  school.  And 
be  on  time." 

Robert  called  back  good-by  and  strolled  down  the 
street  in  the  direction  of  the  church.  Mother  turned 
to  the  newspaper,  saying,  ''I  don't  see  why  that 
child  does  not  like  to  go  to  Sunday  school.  I  al- 
ways went." 

Funny  how  you  forget  all  the  times  you  didn't 
like  to  go  to  Sunday  school,  isn't  it?  For  Sunday 
school  is  just  about  the  same  to-day  as  it  was  when 
you  got  out  of  going  every  time  you  could. 

If  mother  had  followed  Robert  to  Sunday  school 
she  would  have  learned  exactly  why  he  didn't  care 
to  go. 

He  entered  the  Sunday  school  room  and  straggled 
with  the  other  late-comers  into  his  corner.  Five 
other  boys  sat  on  the  yellow,  cane  bottom  chairs, 
painfully  dressed  and  well  behaved. 

275 


276  CHILD  TRAINING 

The  superintendent  gave  out  the  hymn.  The  or- 
ganist began  to  play  but  nobody  got  ready  to  sing. 
The  superintendent  looked  about  in  embarrassment. 

"Could  somebody  start  the  hymn?  Sister  Wisely 
isn't  here  yet." 

The  organist  began  again.  Somebody  struck  in 
feebly  on  the  second  phrase,  another  took  it  up 
and  another  and  they  dragged  through  the  first 
hymn. 

The  reading  of  the  lesson  by  the  superintendent 
followed,  then  another  sorry  hynm,  and  he  said, 
"Classes  will  form." 

There  was  a  shuffling  of  chairs  and  the  scattered 
groups  snuggled  a  little  closer  together.  Most  of  the 
classes  were  without  teachers.  The  pastor  had  the 
Bible  class.  They  were  young  ladies  and  gentlemen 
and  seemed  interested  in  the  lesson. 

The  superintendent  went  from  group  to  group, 
asking,  "Isn't  your  teacher  here  yet?  Well,  she'll 
be  in  soon. "   But  she  wasn't. 

Then  the  superintendent  went  to  the  Bible  class 
and  coaxed  an  unwilling  student  to  go  to  a  class  and 
teach  it,  "just  for  to-day".  We'll  let  the  teaching 
pass  by.    We  have  all  been  through  it. 

What  I  want  to  know  is,  if  the  church  really  wants 
to  teach  its  children,  why  not  train  the  teachers  for 
the  job! 


CREEDS 

Minnie  and  Jean  Marie  were  friends.  Every 
morning  for  three  years  Minnie  had  stopped  before 
Jean  Marie's  gate  and  *'You-hooed",  and  Jean 
Marie  had  come  racing  out  to  greet  her.  Then  the 
two,  with  arms  entwined,  started  off  to  school. 

At  recess  they  shared  their  apples  and  jawbreak- 
ers and  secrets.  If  Minnie  were  kept  in,  which  hap- 
pened quite  often,  Jean  Marie  took  up  her  patient 
watch  at  the  front  entrance,  and  never  left  until  Min- 
nie came  out  and  they  went  home  as  they  had  come, 
together. 

But  something  threatened  the  joy  and  good  com- 
radeship. Confirmation  was  coming  on.  Minnie  was 
to  be  confirmed  in  her  church  and  Jean  Marie  in  hers. 
The  one  in  the  Episcopahan  Church  on  the  hill  and 
the  other  in  the  Catholic  Church  close  by  the  school. 
For  the  first  time  in  their  friendship  they  had  to 
be  separated. 

For  church  was  different.  You  couldn't  share 
church.  If  you  were  a  Catholic,  that  was  something 
different  from  a  Protestant.  As  the  comer  you  had 
to  turn  toward  your  own  church. 

There  was  something  new  and  strange  and  signifi- 
cant about  it.  It  couldn't  be  explained,  and  it 
couldn  't  be  shared.  It  meant  that  you  were  in  some 
way  alone.  Lessons  and  apples  and  punishments 
and  treats  and  clothes  you  could  share,  and  you 
didn't  have  to  explain.   No ;  this  was  different. 

277 


278  CHILD  TRAINING 

The  shadow  lay  between  the  two  little  girls  as 
they  started  down  the  street  one  afternoon  to  go  to 
their  confirmation  classes.  They  were  silent.  Their 
feet  slowed  up  as  they  neared  the  corner  that  marked 
the  parting  of  the  way. 

All  day  Minnie  had  kept  a  little  paper  bag  with  a 
dozen  lemon  drops  in  it,  hidden  in  her  school  bag. 
She  wanted  to  share  them  with  Jean  Marie.  But 
the  shadow  would  not  let  her.  It  lay  darkly  upon 
the  cherished  sweetmeats.  Perhaps  it  was  an  an- 
cestral shadow  that  forbade  the  breaking  of  bread 
with  one  not  of  your  household.  Whatever  the  rea- 
son, Minnie  could  not  eat  the  sweets  alone,  and  she 
could  not  share  them. 

Standing  on  the  corner  chatting  pleasantly  stood 
Father  Pete  and  the  Rector.  A  paper  bag  stuck  out 
of  Father  Pete's  pocket.  As  they  talked  his  hand 
stole  in  and  out.  The  Rector's  hand  did  the  same 
thing,  finding  its  way  to  Father  Pete's  pocket  with 
the  ease  of  long  practice. 

Minnie  took  out  her  bag  and  opened  it,  and  Jean 
Marie  said,  * '  Oh,  goodie. ' '  They  took  turns,  just  as 
Father  Pete  and  the  Rector  did. 

When  Father  Pete  tossed  out  the  crumpled  bag, 
he  raised  his  hand  in  salute  to  the  Rector,  who  raised 
his  in  reply,  and  one  went  across  the  street  towards 
his  church  and  the  other  went  up  the  hill  towards  his. 

And  neither  knew  that  he  had  lifted  a  load  from  a 
little  child's  heart. 


CHRISTMAS 

The  silence  of  night  on  the  plains.  The  deep  dusky- 
blue  of  the  sky.  A  group  of  shepherds  and  their  hud- 
dled sheep.  A  burst  of  music — and  a  star.  Three 
camels  stalking  through  the  silence  bearing  three 
wise  men  who  carry  gifts  to  a  Child.  And  it  was  the 
first  Christmas. 

Nearly  two  thousand  years  and  yet  the  world  has 
not  forgotten.  Rather,  it  remembers  more  keenly 
than  ever  the  story  that  picture  tells.  **  Peace  on 
earth  and  good  will  to  all  men." 

Down  through  the  sorrow-drenched  years,  years 
of  blood  and  agony  and  tears  and  despair  that  have 
followed  that  first  Christmas,  the  world  has  remem- 
bered. Still  rings  the  angels'  chorus.  Still  shines 
the  star.  Still  the  wise  men  travel  bearing  their  gifts 
to  the  Child.   Still  humanity  clings  to  hope. 

Then  a  ''Merry  Christmas  to  you!"  Away  with 
the  dreads  and  the  worries  and  the  doubts.  This  is 
Christmas.  ''Merry  Christmas!"  The  day  of  all 
days  when  the  gray  of  your  hair  is  forgotten,  when 
the  lines  on  your  face  are  so  filled  with  smiles  that 
you  beam  in  gladness,  when  the  child  in  you  dances 
out  of  your  heart  and  leaves  the  door  open  behind 
him. 

Bring  in  the  holly  and  evergreen  branches.  Gather 
to  you  and  yours  the  sounds  and  the  sights  and  the 
smells  of  glad  Christmas.  Get  ready  the  feast  and 
bring  out  the  old  china  and  silver.    This  is  the  day 

279 


280  CHILD  TRAINING 

of  the  family,  the  gathering  of  children's  children. 

Drench  it  with  memories  glorious  and  golden.  Fill 
it  with  laughter  and  music.  Serve  this  mass  with  a 
feeling  and  reverence  that  will  live  long  after  you 
have  lighted  your  last  Christmas  candle. 

"Merry  Christmas!"  Set  up  the  Christmas  tree 
and  deck  it  from  the  base  to  the  top  growth.  Make 
it  glitter  and  jingle  and  twinkle.  It 's  your  message 
of  love,  ever  green,  ever  full,  ever  lighted. 

At  its  top  gleams  the  star.  At  its  foot  the  picture 
of  that  first  Christmas,  the  shepherds,  the  kneeling 
animals,  the  Child  and  the  manger.  Crude  little  toys 
that  go  straight  to  the  hearts  of  childhood  and  keep 
alive  the  story  of  Christmas. 

Load  down  its  branches  with  gifts  for  all  those 
about  you.  Oh,  it  isn't  the  price  of  them  that  is 
going  to  touch  the  hearts  of  those  who  receive  them. 
No.  They  hung  under  the  star  and  were  guarded 
by  shepherds.  Each  little  bundle,  nubbly  and  homely 
and  speaking,  carries  the  message  choired  by  the 
angels,  "Peace  on  earth  and  good  will  to  all  men." 

* '  Merry  Christmas !    God  save  it  to  you ! ' ' 


PART  V 
BOYS 


OUTDOORS  FOR  THE  BOYS 

Boys  belong  out  of  doors.  No  one  who  has  had 
the  slightest  experience  with  boys  doubts  that  for  a 
moment.  Sometimes  we  forget  that  the  outdoors  is 
their  natural  place  of  habitation  and  scold  and  fuss 
when  they  remind  us  of  it.  We  grow  impatient  when 
they  become  restless  and  uneasy  in  the  house  and 
wrathfully  inquire  what  is  the  matter  with  them. 

*'Why  can't  you  be  quiet  for  a  little  while?"* 

**  Why  don't  you  find  something  to  do  until  it  clears 
up?" 

**Why  did  you  bring  that  dirty  mess  into  the 
house  ?  Why  don 't  you  leave  it  outside  where  it  be- 
longs?" 

You  knew  the  answer  before  you  asked  the  ques- 
tion. He  was  closed  in  and  he  wanted  to  be  outside. 
He  could  find  nothing  to  do  inside  the  house  be- 
cause there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  there.  All 
his  activities  were  staged  out  of  doors.  You  had 
made  no  provision  for  the  rainy  day. 

To  begin  with  there  is  no  reason  to  be  so  heedful 
of  the  weather.  The  boy  can  have  clothes  suitable 
for  all  sorts  of  weather.  It  is  a  very  bad  day  indeed 
that  keeps  a  real  boy  indoors.  He  can  have  a  rain- 
coat and  hat  and  rubbers.  Don't  aflflict  him  with 
an  umbrella.  Let  him  go  to  school,  or  do  the  errands, 
or,  if  he  is  lucky  enough  to  have  a  garden,  do  some 
rainy  day  work  in  it. 

If  the  house  will  permit  he  should  have  a  place 

283 


284  CHILD  TRAINING 

in  which  to  work  any  time  he  chooses  to  go  there. 
The  woodshed,  the  cellar,  the  attic,  the  space  under 
the  porch,  a  side  or  back  porch — any  of  these  places 
are  possilDilities  for  the  boy's  workroom.  If  there 
is  a  barn  loft  for  him,  he  need  not  ''call  the  king  his 
cousin".  Only  give  him  a  place  for  himself  and 
connect  it  with  the  outdoors  as  far  as  possible. 

Then  make  sure  that  you  know  what  he  is  doing. 
How  does  he  fill  his  outdoor  time,  or  his  shop  time  ? 
Be  sure  of  one  thing.  He  is  growing  and  his  growth 
has  an  element  of  permanence  in  it  that  is  serious. 
It  makes  for  his  type  of  manhood.  It  is  a  structural, 
fundamental  growth.  Watch  it.  Test  it.  Begin 
with  the  nine-year-old-boy.  You  are  likely  to  over- 
look him. 

Can  he  run  a  hundred  yards  in  good  time? 

Can  he  tie  a  bowtie,  lace  his  shoes  and  tie  a  double 
knot? 

Can  he  recognize  and  name  three  trees,  three  wild 
flowers,  five  wild  animals? 

Can  he  chin  himself  once?  Can  he  be  captain  of 
at  least  three  games? 

The  outdoors  boy  is  the  real  boy.  He  loves  the 
feel  of  the  rain  and  the  mists  in  his  hair  and  on  his 
eyelids  while  he  laughs  rosy-cheeked.  He  loves  the 
smell  of  the  rain-soaked  earth  and  the  wood  smoke 
and  the  pines.  He  loves  the  sun,  and  the  warmth 
of  it  floods  his  healthy  body  and  glows  in  his  happy 
soul. 


KEEPING  THE  BOY  AT  HOME 

**Wliat  can  I  do  to  keep  my  boy  at  home?  He 
seems  to  want  to  be  anywhere  but  there.  I  never 
know  where  to  find  him.   I  'm  worried  to  death. ' ' 

When  a  boy  or  a  girl  wants  to  be  some  place  other 
than  home,  isn't  it  plain  that  the  other  place  holds 
more  attraction  for  him?  Why?  Find  the  answer 
to  that  and  you  will  know  what  to  do  to  keep  the 
boy  at  home. 

One  lad  played  baseball  all  the  spare  time  he  had. 
He  tossed  his  books  on  the  porch  and  raced  off  be- 
fore any  one  could  stop  him.  As  the  vacant  lots 
were  widely  scattered  and  he  might  be  playing  ball 
on  any  one  of  them,  his  mother  did  not  know  where 
to  look  for  him  at  meal  time.  He  would  play  on 
until  darkness  overtook  him. 

Next  door  to  his  home  there  was  a  vacant  lot.  His 
father  hired  a  couple  of  men  to  clear  it  and  turned 
it  over  to  his  son  to  make  into  a  baseball  diamond. 
After  that  there  was  no  trouble  about  finding  him. 

Another  boy  was  a  great  trial  to  his  mother.  He 
did  many  things  and  did  them  in  quick  succession. 
Keeping  up  with  him  for  a  day  gave  one  much  the 
sensation  of  having  purchased  and  used  a  season's 
ticket  on  the  merry-go-round. 

''It's  bad  enough  to  get  him  started  for  school  in 
the  morning  and  seeing  that  he  gets  something  done 
towards  his  lessons  in  the  evening.  But  his  free  time 
is  driving  me  to  despair,"  said  his  tired  mother. 

285 


286  CHILD  TRAINING 

"He  must  have  freedom,  I  know,  but  I  am  in 
mortal  terror  of  his  being  taken  to  the  police  station 
and  my  having  to  go  and  get  him.  He  isn't  stiU  a 
minute,  and  he  never  does  the  same  thing  for  more 
than  twenty  minutes  at  a  time.  He  went  and  hired 
himself  to  the  butcher  to  deliver  meat.  He  delivered 
the  meat  and  then  drove  all  about  the  town  in  the 
butcher  cart. 

"The  butcher  thought  he  had  been  hurt,  that  the 
horse  had  run  away,  and  notified  the  police.  They 
found  him  and  took  him  to  the  butcher  and  he  caUed 
me  up  and  gave  me  a  frightful  scolding.  I  don't 
know  what  to  do.  He  has  to  be  outdoors.  He  cannot 
live  in  the  house.    What  can  I  do  ? " 

"You  say  he  likes  to  be  out  of  doors.  Would  he 
like  to  have  a  garden  and  raise  plants  and  rabbits 
and  things  like  that?" 

His  mother  gave  him  a  garden  and  he  lived  in  it. 
It  grew  big  enough  to  grow  plants  and  shelter  toads 
and  rabbits  and  snakes  the  second  year.  When  he 
worked  it  up  to  horse  size  he  had  the  fun  of  driving 
him  while  he  plowed.  It  was  things  that  lived 
and  moved  and  grew  that  he  wanted. 

If  the  child  finds  the  thing  that  interests  him  in 
his  home  he  is  a  fixture. 


BOYS'  CLUBS 

* 'Aren't  children  ever  any  comfort  to  their  par- 
ents?" asked  the  worried  mother  of  her  nearest 
neighbor  at  the  mothers '  meeting. 

**  Yes,"  chuckled  the  jolly  matron,  ''mine  are  fifty- 
fifty  at  present.  They  are  asleep  for  twelve  hours 
and  they  are  a  pleasure.  They  are  awake  for  the 
other  twelve  hours  and  they  are  a  pain. ' ' 

"You  are  the  teacher,"  challenged  the  troubled 
mother.  "Tell  us  what  can  we  do  to  be  sure  we 
are  right  in  the  training  of  these  children.  Take  my 
Billy.  He's  the  dirtiest  child  alive.  I  have  bathed 
him  every  night  of  his  life  yet  he  won't  wash  himself 
until  he  is  driven  to  it. ' ' 

"That's  nothing  to  worry  about.  He  is  grubby 
because  he  is  at  the  grub  stage.  When  he  is  seven- 
teen you  will  have  a  'dandy'  on  your  hands." 

"Why  doesn't  he  have  any  manners?  I  teach  and 
try  to  practice  them,  but  he  remains  a  savage. ' ' 

"And  I  wouldn't  worry  about  that.  I'd  just  keep 
on  teaching.  By  and  by  the  teaching  tells.  Some 
day  he  will  be  going  about  with  that  lassie  next  door 
and  his  manners  will  be  painfully  correct." 

"But  there's  worse  than  that,"  and  the  mother's 
voice  dropped  to  a  whisper.  "Yesterday  he  played 
truant.  He  deceived  me.  Think  of  it!  He  went 
off  with  some  of  the  boys  of  his  class  and  helped 
them  dig  out  a  cave  in  the  vacant  lot.  I  found  it 
out  by  accident.   When  I  asked  him  why  he  did  such 

287 


288  CHILD  TRAINING 

a  thing  he  said:  'Why  mother,  I  want  to  be  in 
the  gang.  If  I  did  no  work  on  the  hut  the  fellows 
wouldn 't  let  me  belong.  You  wouldn't  let  me  go  with 
them  after  school,  so  I  had  to  go  in  school  time.'  " 

"All  boys  have  that  experience  sooner  or  later," 
comforted  the  teacher.  **  Better  to  have  it  sooner. 
If  you  don 't  like  the  form  it  takes,  change  the  form. 
Get  him  interested  in  some  club  that  has  plenty  of 
fun  and  action  in  it.  The  trouble  with  the  children's 
clubs  is  that  grown  people  cannot  keep  their  hands 
off  them.    Children  dislike  interference  of  that  sort. 

**A11  that  is  really  necessary  is  the  meeting  place. 
It  may  be  in  the  bam,  the  attic,  the  back  yard  or  the 
cellar.  Above  all  else,  it  must  be  a  place  where  boys 
can  make  noise  and  clutter. 

** Little  fellows'  clubs  are  generally  very  long  on 
talk  and  very  short  on  action.  Just  let  them  alone. 
Stay  in  the  background  and  supply  assistance  and 
encouragement  when  they  need  them. 

** Accept  the  'crowd'  or  the  'club'  or  the  'gang.' 
It  is  the  social  instinct  and  must  be  dealt  with 
wisely.*' 


A  BOY  AND  A  DOG 

Harry  presented  himself  at  the  kitchen  door.  He 
had  his  arms  clasped  about  a  struggling  bundle  but- 
toned under  his  jacket.  A  moist  black  snoot  pro- 
truded just  under  his  chin  and  a  curly  black  tail 
wagged  wildly  just  below  it. 

** Mother,  I  know  where  there  is  a  dog.  He's  a 
clean  dog,  mother.  He's  an  awful  good  dog.  He 
doesn't  bite  nor  anything.  And  he's  an  awful  nice 
dog,  too,  mother." 

His  mother  tried  not  to  see  the  pleading  eyes  and 
the  wistful  mouth  of  the  boy  begging  for  the  stray 
he  held  under  his  coat. 

**A  dog,  Harry?  We  don't  want  a  dog.  They  are 
a  great  deal  of  trouble,  scratching  things  up  and 
maybe  biting  people.  They  have  to  be  fed,  too,  and 
looked  after  just  like  children.  No,  son,  we  don't 
want  a  dog." 

Harry  made  another  effort.  **But  he's  such  a 
kind  dog,  mother.  And  I  know  where  to  get  him  and 
he  hasn't  anything  to  eat." 

**Well,  you  might  take  him  a  bone  or  a  piece  of 
bread,  but  don't  bring  him  home." 

Harry  turned  towards  the  gate  and  slowly  made 
his  way  to  the  street,  where  he  set  his  prisoner  free. 
He  jumped  and  frisked  joyously  about  the  boy,  who 
went  down  the  street  with  him. 

**Not  such  a  bad-looking  dog,"  said  Harry's 
mother,  peeping  through  the  curtain.    ''But  I  can't 

289 


290  CHILD  TRAINING 

have  him  bringing  all  the  animals  he  finds  home. 
I  'd  soon  have  a  menagerie.  *  * 

That  evening  Harry  was  very  sober  and  went  to 
bed  early.  The  house  was  still  and  everybody  asleep 
when  there  came  a  barking  and  a  scratching  at  the 
back  door.  Harry  tumbled  out  of  bed  and  went 
downstairs  and  held  a  conversation  with  the  dog. 

**I'm  a^vful  sorry,  but  you  have  to  go  and  sleep  in 
the  barrel  over  in  Bink  's  yard.  You  're  my  dog,  but 
you  have  to  sleep  over  in  Bink's.  Now,  run  back 
and  go  to  sleep.  That's  a  good  dog.  Go  to  bed 
now.'* 

The  door  closed  and  Harry  went  back  to  bed. 
When  this  had  happened  the  third  time  his  mother 
called,  *^ Harry,  perhaps  you'd  better  put  that  dog  in 
the  old  basket  and  let  him  sleep  in  your  room  to-night 
so  you  can  get  some  sleep. ' ' 

No  sooner  said  than  done,  and  quiet  settled  once 
more  over  the  disturbed  household.  In  the  morning, 
when  Harry's  mother  went  into  his  room  to  call  him, 
he  lay  fast  asleep  with  his  arm  over  a  curly  black 
bunch  that  lay  snuggled  against  him.  It  stirred  and 
wagged  a  tail  when  she  came  closer  to  look. 

**Well,  I  suppose  you'll  have  to  stay.  But  you'll 
have  to  have  a  bath  if  you  are  going  to  sleep  in  the 
bed." 

*' Whatever  you  say,  madam,"  wagged  the  curly 
black  tail.    "It  shall  be  just  as  you  say." 


YOUR  BOY'S  BEST  COMPANIONS 

The  best  companions  in  the  world  for  a  boy  are  a 
book  and  a  dog  and  another  boy.  He  usually  gets  the 
other  boy  with  ease  and  nonchalance.  Sometimes  he 
gets  the  dog.  The  streets  yield  a  rich  harvest  of 
both.    But  books  are  different. 

Books  lie  out  of  a  boy's  beaten  path.  They  are 
still,  quiet  things  that  must  be  hunted  out  of  silent 
corners.  They  are  generally  associated  with  clean 
hands  and  hushed  rooms.  All  this  is  foreign  to  the 
normal  boy.  Books  must  be  trained  into  him  as  one 
trains  toothbrushes,  and  hooks  for  hats,  and  door 
mats. 

If  you  don't  provide  the  training,  some  one,  or 
something  else,  will.  The  flaring,  screaming  bill- 
boards give  him  daily  lessons  in  reading.  The  writ- 
ing is  large  and  the  pictures  are  arresting  and  he  can 
read  while  he  gallops  by.  He  would  have  to  be  bUnd 
not  to. 

There  are  the  movies.  A  boy  can  read  a  whole 
story  and  keep  going  at  full  speed  all  the  time.  The 
room  is  not  light  and  airy,  and  the  light  does  not  fall 
over  his  left  shoulder,  and  no  one  says  a  word  about 
clean  hands.  He  is  thrilled.  He  is  amused.  He  has 
only  to  sit  and  look  and  the  thing  has  come  and  gone 
like  a  vision.    And  all  so  easy. 

One  of  his  chums  discovers  a  story,  almost  as  good 
as  the  movies,  in  a  cheap  book.  He  passes  it  on  and 
your  boy  has  begun  to  form  his  taste  in  books — 

291 


292  CHILD  TRAINING 

unless  you  have  been  alert  and  kept  ahead  of  the 
billboards  and  the  movies,  and  the  cheap  book. 

When  he  is  little  there  are  the  picture  books.  They 
can  form  part  of  his  day  even  when  he  is  creeping 
about.  Feed  him  books  and  his  appetite  for  them 
will  grow.  If  you  start  him  on  Mother  Goose,  and 
follow  up  with  Field  and  Stevenson,  he  will  read  the 
right  sort  of  book. 

Sometimes  he  will  make  a  mistake  and  pick  the 
wrong  book.  He  made  just  such  a  mistake  in  picking 
out  his  friends  and  his  dogs.  But  if  his  taste  has 
been  directed  he  will  drop  the  bad  book  as  he  dropped 
the  bad  boy  and  the  miserable  dog. 

Every  boy  should  read  the  Bible.  It  will  give  him 
good  taste,  good  style,  and  soul  culture. 

He  should  know  Robinson  Crusoe  and  Pilgrim's 
Progress.  He  will  like  the  Arabian  Nights  and 
Lamb's  Tales  of  Shakespeare.  He  should  have  a 
short  history  of  his  country  and  a  copy  of  the 
Scout 's  Book.  One  thing  he  mil  like  immensely,  and 
one  that  he  ought  to  have,  a  set  of  cartoons.  They 
will  teach  him  what  a  really  funny  picture  is. 

Leave  him  in  peace  to  read.  It  may  be  that  he 
seeks  the  seclusion  of  the  hayloft,  or  the  top  of  a 
tree,  or  the  easy  chair  in  the  corner.  Let  him  alone. 
He  is  forming  his  lifelong  friendships. 


THE  INFORMER 

In  a  town  full  of  good  people  who  lived  in  good 
houses  and  had  good  children  whom  they  sent  to  a 
good  school,  a  storm  broke  that  threatened  to  set  all 
the  good  people  by  the  ears  and  shatter  their  good 
school. 

It  seems  that  a  teacher  in  the  school  had  aroused 
the  antagonism  of  a  group  of  boys,  and  to  even 
things  up  with  him  one  of  their  number  drew  a 
caricature  of  him  on  the  wall  of  the  school.  The 
drawing  was  made  with  a  crayon  that  required  a 
chemical  preparation  to  remove.  The  obnoxious 
drawing  had  to  stay  on  the  walls  of  the  school  for  a 
whole  day  while  the  janitor  went  to  a  neighboring 
town  and  purchased  the  wash  that  would  remove  it. 

The  teacher  was  very  angry.  The  principal  was 
annoyed.  Now  he  must  look  up  the  boys  who  had 
done  this  and  see  that  they  were  properly  punished. 
That  took  his  time  and  used  his  energy.  The  more 
he  thought  of  it  the  crosser  he  grew. 

Who  could  have  done  it?  Who  had  that  sort  of 
crayon?  Investigation  proved  that  there  was  but 
one  boy  who  had  such  crayon  in  the  school.  But 
further  investigation  disclosed  that  he  had  loaned 
his  crayons  to  a  friend  some  days  before  the  occur- 
rence and  had  not  yet  received  them  from  him. 

The  principal  sent  for  the  boy  and  asked  him  for 
the  name  of  the  bo5>^  who  had  borrowed  his  crayons. 
The  boy  refused  to  tell  him. 

2d3 


294  CHILD  TRAINING 

**Don*t  you  see  that  it  is  your  duty  to  help  me  run 
down  the  culprit  and  punish  him?  Don't  you  think 
you  owe  anything  to  the  school?  Are  you  not  a  part 
of  it?  What  affects  the  school  affects  you.  You 
share  in  the  disgrace  that  has  come  upon  us  all 
through  this  unmannerly  conduct." 

*' Yes,  but  I  think  if  the  fellow  who  did  it  won't  tell 
you,  there  is  no  reason  why  I  should.  I  can 't  tell  on 
another  fellow.   He  must  do  his  own  telling. ' ' 

There  the  matter  stood  when  the  principal  called 
in  the  boy's  father. 

"And  if  he  does  not  tell  us  who  used  his  crayons 
we  will  expel  him. ' ' 

*'You  will?"  demanded  the  father.  "You  wiU 
expel  my  boy  for  being  decent  because  you  can 't  find 
the  boy  who  was  indecent?    Not  if  I  know  it." 

And  those  perfectly  good  people  with  this  per- 
fectly good  school  took  sides  and  fought  bitterly,  all 
because  the  principal  had  asked  a  boy  to  do  some- 
thing he  should  never  have  asked  him  to  do.  For  no 
boy  must  be  called  upon  to  inform  upon  his  neighbor. 
That's  playing  the  role  of  informer,  and  it  is  un- 
American  through  and  through. 

It  is  a  violation  of  the  boy's  code.  An  adolescent 
boy  has  no  standard  above  that  of  his  group.  It  is 
not  a  bad  one.  Better  stick  to  it  until  age  and  experi- 
ence teach  him  when  to  speak  and  when  to  keep  still. 
Better  the  boyish  code  of  honor  than  the  hypocritical 
code  of  the  boy  informer. 


FASHIONS  FOE  BOYS 

"Bobby,  you  are  forgetting  your  hat." 

**No,  mother,  I'm  not  wearing  any." 

''What  is  the  matter  with  you?  This  is  a  cold 
morning. ' ' 

' '  Not  so  cold.   I  'm  not  wearing  a  hat  these  days. ' ' 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  just  for  fun.  Some  of  the  fellows  made  it 
up  not  to. ' ' 

' '  Nonsense.   You  '11  catch  cold. ' ' 

"No,  I  won't.  I  haven't  caught  cold  so  far,  and  I 
haven't  worn  a  hat  this  winter."  And  he  raced  off 
to  school. 

"That's  the  latest  fashion,  I  suppose,"  groaned 
his  mother.  "He'll  catch  cold  and  get  an  earache 
and  bring  all  sorts  of  trouble  on  himself. ' ' 

"Don't  worry,"  comforted  the  father.  "As  he 
points  out,  he  hasn't  caught  cold  yet.  Lots  of  people 
never  had  a  hat. ' ' 

"They  don't  live  in  this  country." 

"Yes,  they  do.  Don 't  fuss  yourself  about  his  hats. 
Boys  are  like  that.  He'll  have  another  style  soon, 
and  maybe  want  to  wear  his  hat  to  bed.  Cheer  up,  I 
tell  you.   He  '11  soon  have  another  notion. ' ' 

True  to  the  prophecy,  Bobby  soon  had  another 
style.  He  rolled  his  stockings  down  below  the  knee. 
His  mother  was  horrified. 

"Why  have  you  wadded  your  stockings  like  that? 
Where  are  your  garters?" 

295 


296  CHILD  TRAINING 

*  'Don 't  wear  any.  I  roll  my  stockings  like  this  and 
I  don't  have  to  use  any  garters.  Fine  scheme.  All 
the  fellows  are  doing  it.  I  made  np  with  Scotty  to 
wear  mine  like  this  this  afternoon. ' ' 

**It's  disgusting.  I  don't  believe  the  teacher  will 
allow  it.  Don 't  be  surprised  when  she  sends  you  out 
to  dress  properly." 

**0h,  mother,  you're  behind  the  times.  You  ought 
to  see  the  girls.  They  have  short  stockings  and  bare 
knees.    They  don't  look  bad,  really." 

**A11 1  have  to  say  is  that  I  don't  like  the  style." 

In  a  few  days  the  stockings  went  back  to  their 
places  and  Bobby  said,  *'Mom,  will  you  please  buy 
me  a  new  cap?  It's  the  school  cap,  with  our  colors 
and  initials.    All  the  fellows  are  wearing  them." 

Styles  in  boyland  change  swiftly.  They  are 
usually  harmless  and  meaningless,  except  to  the  boy. 
For  him  to  be  out  of  style  is  to  be  out  of  the  world. 
The  only  time  he  can  be  comfortable  and  out  of  style 
is  when  he  feels  superior  to  it.  And  boys  are  sensible 
in  that  they  rarely  feel  superior. 

Whenever  possible,  let  him  follow  the  style  of  the 
hour.  It  makes  him  happy  and  does  no  harm.  In 
fact,  it  prevents  him  from  doing  more  harmful 
things. 


CHUMMING  IT  WITH  SON 

My  neighbor  and  I  were  chatting  in  his  quiet  study 
one  evening  when  the  door  burst  open  and  his  twelve- 
year-old  son  rushed  breathlessly  into  the  room  and 
demanded,  *'What  did  you  do  with  the  wrench,  dad?'* 

His  cap  hung  on  the  back  of  his  head.  He  swung 
to  and  fro,  holding  on  to  both  sides  of  the  white 
enameled  doorway  with  two  very  grimy  hands.  He 
was  soiled  with  mud,  and  smelled  of  rubber  and  gaso- 
lene.   It  was  plain  that  he  was  fixing  the  car. 

**In  the  box  in  the  outer  shed,*'  said  his  father. 

Away  rushed  son,  leaving  the  study  door  and  the 
outer  screen  door  open  behind  him.  His  father 
sighed  and  closed  both  doors. 

**That  is  what  I  mean,"  he  said.  '*The  present 
generation  has  no  manners.  Perhaps  it  is  our  fault. 
I  made  up  my  mind  that  my  son  should  not  be  afraid 
of  me,  as  I  was  of  my  father. 

* '  My  father  was  a  very  dignified  man.  He  kept  me 
at  a  distance.  I  did  not  feel  free  with  him.  I  had  to 
wait  his  permission  to  speak.  I  had  to  be  careful 
to  address  him  as  sir.  He  was  always  very  kind,  but 
formal.  I  stood  in  awe  of  him.  I  want  to  be  a  com- 
panion to  my  son.  I  Ve  tried  to  be.  Still,  sometimes 
I  wonder  if  I  have  been  wise. ' ' 

When  one's  friends  are  talking  about  their  chil- 
dren it  is  best  to  listen  and  say  as  little  as  possible. 
I  nodded. 

**Last  Saturday,"  he  went  on,  *Hhe  lad  wanted  to 

297 


298  CHILD  TRAINING 

go  on  a  hike.  I  thought  it  would  be  chummy  of  me  to 
go  along."  He  smiled  at  the  recollection.  *'We 
headed  into  the  country.  By  and  by  I  began  to  feel 
tired.  Son  was  well  up  in  front  with  his  friends.  I 
tagged  along  in  the  rear. 

' '  By  the  time  we  reached  the  end  I  was  tired.  But 
the  boy  was  still  going  strong.  I  made  myself  com- 
fortable upon  a  pile  of  extra  sweaters  and  coats  while 
the  youngsters  played  balL 

*'We  had  luncheon.  The  boy  ate  his  sandwiches 
and  enjoyed  them.   I  ate  mine  and  shuddered. 

''After  luncheon  they  were  ready  for  another 
game.  I  suggested  that  it  was  already  late  and  that 
it  might  be  well  to  start  for  home. 

**  'Oh,  that's  all  right,'  they  said.  'Don't  let  us 
keep  you  if  you  are  tired.  Trot  right  along.  We  '11 
follow  you. ' 

' '  I  wouldn  't  leave  them  and  stayed  the  game  out. 
I  wondered  if  I  had  been  right  in  thinking  I  could  be 
a  companion  to  a  twelve-year-old  child.  Sometimes 
I  feel  that  we  have  both  lost  something  worth  while 
by  my  attempting  it. 

"Chums  must  share  and  share  alike.  Forty-five 
and  twelve  cannot  always  do  this.'* 


IN   EMBRYO 

The  lovely  spring  day  was  drawing  to  a  close. 
Aunt  Betty  had  returned  from  her  bug-hunting  expe- 
dition and  was  sitting  on  the  porch  sorting  things 
out.  Mother  came  out  and  stood  looking  on,  fearful 
yet  interested. 

The  sound  of  boys  laughing  and  scuffling  made 
them  look  towards  the  street.  Mother  gasped  and 
subsided  into  a  rocker.  Bobbie  was  leading  the  ball 
team  towards  home  and  dinner.    He  was  a  picture. 

His  hair  showed  in  damp  locks  in  the  wrong  places. 
His  cap  flapped  its  dilapidated  peak  hither  and  yon 
as  he  tramped  along  thumping  his  bat  at  each  step. 
His  knickers  were  ripped  from  knee  to  waist  and 
swung  about  his  legs  like  scant  kilts.  He  was  of  an 
even  mud  color  from  cap  to  heel. 

''Hullo,  mom.  Lo,  Aunt  Betty.  Some  fun! 
Some  game !    We  licked  them  off  the  lot. ' ' 

''Good  enough,"  said  Aunt  Betty,  digging  down 
into  her  tin  case  for  a  muddy  little  plant.  "  'Twas  a 
fine  afternoon  for  being  out  of  doors. ' ' 

"I'll  say  it  was,"  returned  Bob,  cheerfully. 

"Bob,"  said  his  mother,  trying  to  be  ca.lm,  "did 
you  walk  up  the  street  like  that?" 

"Like  how?" 

"Like  a  ragamuffin,  like  a  vagabond,  like  a  boy  who 
has  nobody  to  look  after  him,  like  a — a — I  don't 
know  what. ' ' 

* '  Oh,  I  'm  only  a  little  bit  dirty.   The  field  was  wet 

299 


300  CHILD  TRAINING 

— spring,  you  know.    These  are  old  pants,  anyway/* 

**0h,  please  go  upstairs  and  make  yourself  pre- 
sentable.  You  Ve  disgraced  me. '  * 

Bob  went  upstairs  and  mother  turned  to  Aunt 
Betty.  *' Isn't  it  awful?  No  more  care  for  decency 
than  a  pup.  What  sort  of  a  man  will  he  be  ?  It  isn't 
that  I  haven't  tried.  I've  done  my  best  to  teach 
him." 

Aunt  Betty  laughed  and  dipped  her  muddy  hand 
into  her  case  again.  She  opened  her  hand  and 
showed  a  mass  of  muddy  grass  and  wet  stalks  in  the 
middle  of  which  clung  an  ugly,  squatty,  hungry  look- 
ing "bug." 

**  Remember  the  lovely  dragonfly  that  came  into 
our  room  last  summer?  You  wanted  to  keep  him 
because  he  was  a  blazing  splash  of  color?" 

"Yes.  He  was  the  loveliest  thing  I  ever  saw  on 
wings." 

"This  is  the  gentleman.  This  is  how  he  looks  in 
the  *boy'  stage.  By  and  by  he  will  put  on  his  wings 
and  dress  up  in  the  rainbow  and  fly  off.  Just  now  he 
likes  the  mud." 

Queer  about  boys.  You  never  can  tell  what  they 
may  turn  out  to  be.  But  there  is  one  thing  positive 
about  them.  Keep  them  healthy  and  happy  and  love 
them  greatly  and  they  will  turn  into  men. 


WHOSE  KITE? 

Henry  was  flying  his  kite.  It  was  one  of  those  gay, 
birdlike  ones  that  need  no  tail  and  dip  and  loop-the- 
loop  like  a  real  airplane.  Beany  was  standing  up  on 
the  bank,  watching  his  more  fortunate  neighbor  enjoy 
the  antics  of  his  kite  and  the  admiration  of  the 
rather  envious  spectator. 

Suddenly  the  wind  shifted  and  the  kite  veered 
towards  the  oak  tree.  Not  the  sort  of  oak  tree  that 
encouraged  reckless  kite  flying.  It  had  low-spread- 
ing branches,  each  of  them  thick  with  scraggly  twigs. 
It  was  a  grim  tree  for  kite-fliers. 

*'Let  her  out,  let  her  out,  can't  you?  Now,  there, 
see  what  you  did!  Stupid!"  stamped  Beany  in 
wrath,  as  the  kite  fluttered  once  or  twice  and  settled 
submissively  among  a  tangle  of  twigs  well  up  in  the 
tree. 

"Whose  kite  is  it?"  demanded  Henry  insolently. 
**I  can  get  another.  My  father  will  give  me  the 
money  for  another  one."  And  he  turned  and 
strutted  off  towards  the  group  of  boys  on  the  other 
lot. 

Beany  contemplated  his  retreating  back  with  an 
air  of  disgust.  Then  he  took  a  survey  of  the  tree.  It 
was  not  hard  to  get  up  into,  but  it  was  going  to  be 
the  very  mischief  to  climb  through,  and  the  kite  was 
hanging  well  out  on  the  end  of  a  particularly  scraggly 
limb. 

Beany  scrambled  up.     He  stretched  his  pudgy 

301 


302  CHILD  TRAINING 

arms  and  legs  and  grew  blue  in  the  face  holding  his 
breath  in  the  effort  to  hold  his  gains  on  the  way 
towards  the  stranded  kite.  The  twigs  flapped  and 
switched  his  face.  They  ran  up  his  sleeves  and 
scratched  his  arms  viciously.  But  he  scrambled  his 
way  to  the  prize.  He  carefully  disentangled  it  and 
dropped  it  from  the  tree.  Then  he  dropped  to  the 
ground  beside  it. 

* '  Not  a  scratch.  I  call  that  luck.  Didn  't  think  I  'd 
ever  own  a  bird  kite.  Won 't  ma  be  surprised  when  I 
show  her ! '  * 

But  Henry  had  spied  him  and  came  on  the  double 
quick.  **Here  you,  Beany.  That's  my  kite.  Now, 
you  give  it  to  me.  That's  my  kite,"  and  seeing  his 
father  in  the  near  distance  howled.  *  *  That 's  my  kite. 
Now,  you  give  me  it." 

**For  the  love  of "  gasped  Beany. 

*' That's  my  kite.    Now,  you  give  it  to  me." 

A  tenseness  settled  under  Beany 's  freckles. 
** Where  did  you  leave  your  kite?" 

** Hanging  in  the  tree,"  declared  the  grieving 
Henry. 

"Then  that's  where  it  ought  to  be,"  answered 
Beany,  and  with  wonderful  accuracy  he  shot  the  kite 
back  up  into  the  tree  and  walked  away. 

"Dad,  did  you  see  Beany  throw  my  kite  back 
into  the  tree?"  whined  Henry. 

"Yes,  I  saw  the  whole  business,"  said  dad.  "I'd 
rather  be  Beany  than  you." 

And  Henry  understood. 


FALSE  EDUCATION 

There  was  a  boy  who  played  the  violin  very  well, 
so  well  that  his  teacher  hoped  he  would  become  a 
master.  One  day  a  friend  of  his  father's  asked  that 
the  boy  be  allowed  to  play  a  selection  at  a  public 
gathering. 

*^ Please,  no,"  begged  his  teacher.  ''It  is  not  well 
for  learners  to  appear  in  public.  Better  wait  until 
his  talent  is  matured." 

But  his  father's  friend  prevailed  and  the  boy 
played.  He  went  up  on  the  platform  a  shy,  earnest 
lad  who,  above  all  else,  desired  to  play  with  all  the 
power  within  him.  He  played  his  way  straight  into 
the  hearts  of  his  audience.  They  cheered  and 
stamped  and  clapped  their  hands,  but  the  shy  little 
boy  would  not  go  back  to  play  again  and  his  teacher 
was  glad  when  he  said,  ''I've  played  all  I  can  to- 
night. I'm  afraid  of  all  those  people.  Let  us  go 
home  and  be  quiet." 

Soon  he  was  asked  to  play  again,  and  again  the 
teacher  begged  that  his  father  refuse  the  invitation. 
But  the  boy  played  again.  This  time  he  was  not 
so  shy. 

Another  invitation  came  and  another  and  another. 
By  this  time  the  lad  had  forgotten  his  shyness, 
forgotten  all  sense  of  unfitness,  lost  all  his  fine 
humility,  and  blossomed  out  a  swaggering,  self-con- 
scious stage  artist. 

His  playing  lost  its  tender  appeal.    It  was  hard, 

303 


304  CHILD  TRAINING 

unfeeling,  cold.  It  was  not  even  technically  perfect. 
The  invitations  dropped  off.  He  was  brushed  aside 
— ^finished. 

' '  He  is  ruined, ' '  moaned  his  teacher.  *  *  It  will  tate 
years  of  effort  to  overcome  this.  He  should  never 
have  appeared  until  he  was  a  master.  Now  he  must 
learn  to  forget  himself,  he  that  was  so  unconscious 
of  a  self.  He  must  learn  now  to  live  for  his  art,  he 
who  knew  no  other  object  in  living." 

Any  sort  of  training  that  leads  a  child  to  think 
more  of  the  product  than  of  the  idea  he  is  working 
out  is  bad  teaching,  false  education.  Any  training 
that  leads  to  a  feeling  of  superiority  in  a  child,  any- 
thing that  leads  a  child  towards  egotism,  is  false 
education. 

Parents  are  guilty  of  this  oftener  than  teachers 
are.  Perhaps  parental  pride  drives  them  to  it.  They 
would  see  their  children  praised  and  petted  by  ad- 
miring friends.  Whatever  the  cause,  it  is  bad  for  the 
children. 

Praise  the  child  for  a  fine  performance.  Give  him 
every  encouragement  to  excel,  but  don't  if  you  value 
his  growth,  seize  upon  some  pretty  phase  of  it  and 
exhibit  it  in  the  market  place.  That  road  leads  to 
disaster. 


BOYS  AND  STUDY 

Bob  sat  in  the  library  studying  his  lessons  for  the 
next  day.  He  had  been  sent  there  three  times  in  the 
half  hour.  He  seemed  willing,  anxious  to  do  any- 
thing but  study. 

His  aunt  had  to  look  for  her  book  and  Bob  kindly 
went  to  help  her.  Having  found  it,  he  did  not  return 
to  his  lessons  until  she  discovered  him  walking  about 
the  room  and  sent  him  back  to  his  books. 

The  professor  had  taken  down  his  pipe  and  Bob 
had  shot  out  of  his  chair  to  get  a  match,  light  it,  blow 
it  out  carefully,  and  throw  it  into  a  selected  spot  in 
the  fireplace.  All  this  took  several  minutes  and 
would  have  taken  longer  only  his  mother  came  to  see 
if  he  was  working. 

**I  must  have  left  my  paper  in  my  overcoat 
pocket, ' '  said  his  uncle. 

''I'll  get  it,"  said  Bob,  and  was  off  before  you 
could  wink.  He  returned  with  the  paper.  He  opened 
it,  found  the  financial  page  and  folded  it  carefully 
and  handed  it  to  his  uncle.  Then  he  busied  himself 
with  the  sporting  page  of  his  father's  paper  until  he 
was  discovered  again. 

He  had  been  studying  for  a  few  minutes  when  the 
door  bell  rang.  ''That  must  be  the  artist,"  said  his 
mother.  Bob  was  half  way  to  the  door  before  he 
could  be  stopped. 

"Take  your  books  and  go  to  your  room  and  stay 
there  until  you  have  finished  your  lessons.  Then 
take  your  bath  and  go  to  bed." 

305 


306  CHILD  TRAINING 

**0h,  mom!  I  never  saw  that  artist.  Can't  I  stay 
and  see  what  she  is  like ! ' ' 

"Quick,"  said  his  mother  in  the  tone  that  meant, 
**It  is  settled."  He  went  upstairs  as  slowly  as  he 
could,  hoping  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  visitor,  but  she 
had  been  shown  in  another  door  and  he  was  forced 
to  go  on  his  way. 

Soon  voices  floated  upstairs.  The  visitor  was  in 
the  living  room  talking  to  the  professor  about  the 
new  art  school  she  was  going  to  open.  Bob  got  as 
near  the  top  of  the  stairs  as  was  safe  and  listened. 

They  talked  of  the  great  artists  and  of  their 
struggles  to  gain  a  place  in  their  field.  The  woman 
had  made  her  way  in  spite  of  obstacles  that  might 
have  daunted  a  weaker  soul.  Bob  forgot  all  about 
his  French  lesson  as  he  listened. 

**I  have  a  photograph  of  a  bit  of  work  one  of  my 
boyn  has  done,"  said  the  professor.  **I'm  hoping 
that  you  may  be  able  to  help  him  to  a  scholarship. 
What  did  I  do  with  that  photograph?" 

"I  know  where  it  is,  dad,"  and  Bob  slid  down  the 
stairs  like  a  moonbeam,  found  the  picture,  and 
slipped  himself  behind  his  mother's  chair  and  sat 
and  listened  until  the  visitor  left. 

** Perhaps  Bob  isn't  going  to  be  a  book  boy," 
sighed  the  professor.  '  *■  He  seems  to  be  so  much  more 
interested  in  other  things. ' ' 

There  isn't  a  boy  alive  who  isn't  more  interested 
in  people  and  life  than  he  is  in  books.  He  has  to 
get  book  knowledge  and  book  training.  But  isn't 
five  hours  enough  of  it?  He  gets  very  little  else  in 
school.  Is  he  asking  too  much  when  he  begs  for  live 
people  and  live  action  outside  of  it?  A  little  home 
study  ought  to  be  enough. 


THE  HERO 

**  Just  the  same,  I  can't  see  why  people  should  let 
such  a  child  loose.  He  shouldn't  be  where  other  chil- 
dren are."  Estelle's  pretty  mother  shut  her  mouth 
hard  and  passed  the  sugar. 

"He  doesn't  do  any  harm,"  said  daddy  gently. 
**Estelle  seems  to  like  him.  The  lad  couldn't  help 
being  bom  wrong." 

*'0f  course  not.  That's  just  the  reason,"  said 
mother,  answering  both  statements.  '*I  don't  like  to 
have  the  creature  about  Estelle.  He  shambles  and 
giggles  and  glares.  Oh,  he's  awful,  I  think!  His 
people  ought  to  keep  him  away  from  the  beach." 

"But,  my  dear,  those  people  have  to  take  care  of 
their  son  exactly  as  we  have  to  take  care  of  Estelle. 
We  wouldn't  like  this  if  it  was  our  child,  you  know. 
I  'm  awfully  sorry  for  them.    Think  if — if " 

Mother  nodded  in  surrender  and  father  strolled 
down  to  the  beach  to  see  how  the  little  ones  were 
getting  along  with  the  rows  of  wells.  Each  was  as 
busy  as  a  child  with  a  pail  and  shovel  and  the  ocean 
beach  to  deal  with  ought  to  be. 

Estelle  was  as  busy  as  any.  A  dainty,  fairy-like 
child,  with  all  the  beauty  of  her  mother  and  the 
gentle  kindliness  of  her  father,  she  was  loved  by  all 
the  children  of  the  beach  colony. 

Paul  was  not  as  other  children.  He  hovered  about 
the  edge  of  the  group  as  though  longing  for  a  friendly 
word  or  a  hint  to  join  in  the  fun.    Poor  child,  he 

307 


308  CHILD  TEAINING 

could  not  play  when  they  tried  him,  and  after  the 
careless  fashion  of  childhood  they  left  him  alone  and 
ceased  to  notice  him  except  when  he  got  in  their  way. 
All  but  Estelle.  She  always  had  a  word  and  a  smile 
for  him. 

He  stayed  as  near  her  as  he  could  get.  He  watched 
until  she  had  filled  her  pail  with  damp  sand,  then  he 
sprang  forward  and  carried  it  to  where  she  wanted 
it  dumped. 

"Poor  little  fellow,"  said  daddy  as  he  walked 
toward  the  cottage.  *  *  Poor,  harmless  child.  It 's  too 
bad." 

It  was  after  tea  time.  The  children  had  gone  to 
the  shore  for  the  last  game  before  bedtime.  Mother 
was  about  to  go  down  after  Estelle  when  she  rushed 
into  the  room.  She  was  a  dirty  bundle  of  what 
seemed  to  be  mud  and  soot.  Behind  her  stood  Paul, 
smiling  in  a  pale,  helpless  fashion. 

**I'm  all  right,  mother,"  panted  Estelle,  **but  fix 
Paul.  I  fell  into  the  bonfire  the  big  boys  had  made 
and  Paul  pulled  me  out  and  his  hands  are  burned. ' ' 

''I'm  all  burned — my  hands  and  my  legs,"  he  an- 
nounced cheerfully,  **but  she's  all  right." 

Next  day  everybody  along  the  beach  was  calling 
him  a  hero.  But  he  stayed  on  the  edge  of  the  group, 
bandaged  and  smiling.  He  was  content  if  Estelle  was 
pleased.  He  wished  his  hands  were  better  so  he 
could  dump  her  paiL 


HAEE  AND  TORTOISE 

Clarence  was  a  *4ump  of  a  boy".  His  hands  and 
feet  flapped  and  dangled  at  the  ends  of  his  long  arms 
and  legs.  His  nose,  what  there  was  of  it,  was  pug, 
and  richly  seasoned  with  freckles.  His  eyes  were 
neutral  gray,  and  his  eyebrows  could  be  discerned 
only  after  sharp  scrutiny. 

He  did  not  shine  in  the  classroom.  Report-card 
day  brought  storms  of  reproach  about  his  head.  At 
these  times  he  wore  a  slightly  troubled  expression. 
At  all  others,  a  sort  of  friendly  cheerfulness  en- 
veloped him. 

Beatrice,  his  sister,  was  a  fairy.  She  had  the 
classic  blue  eyes  and  curly  hair  of  the  fairy  tales 
She  was  bright  and  quick  and  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  class.  Report-card  day  held  no  terrors  for  her. 
Everybody  praised  her. 

Father  was  annoyed.  He  could  not  see  why 
Clarence  was  not  as  bright  about  things  as  Beatrice. 
Hadn't  they  the  same  parents?  Hadn't  they  the 
same  teachers  and  the  same  opportunities?  "What 
was  the  matter  with  the  boy?  He  was  a  disgrace. 
The  girl,  of  course,  was  no  more  than  the  family 
expected  her  to  be,  but  the  boy  was  far  from  it. 

The  teacher  once  told  him  that  all  children  were 
not  alike.  That  often  little  girls  appeared  to  be 
brighter  than  their  slower  growing  brothers,  but  all 
of  a  sudden  one  day  the  boy  woke  up  and  surged 
ahead  and  left  the  girl  behind  him. 

309 


310  CHILD  TRAINING 

**No.  Clarence  could  never  equal  his  sister.  To 
be  sure  he  might  wake  up  to  his  advantages  some 
day.  Let  us  say  no  more  about  it,"  father  said 
sharply. 

The  Easter  recess  came.  * '  Father,  can  we  do  what 
we  like  with  this  week's  hohday?"  asked  Beatrice. 

Father  looked  doubtful.  Mother  said :  **  Yes,  why 
not?  Let  them  do  just  as  they  please  for  a  week  and 
report  to  us  what  they  accomplished  on  Saturday 
night.    That  will  be  a  good  experience  for  them." 

Clarence  looked  pleased.  He  disappeared  shortly 
after  this  permission  was  given.  He  returned  look- 
ing more  pleased.  Every  morning  he  rose  early  and 
got  his  own  breakfast  and  packed  his  lunch.  He 
returned  in  the  evening  in  time  for  dinner,  dirty  and 
tired,  and  content.  The  family  wondered,  worried  a 
little,  hoped  for  the  best,  and  waited  for  Saturday 
night. 

**0h,"  said  Beatrice,  **I  had  a  fine  time.  Visited 
and  went  to  the  movies  and  cleaned  my  room  and 
prepared  my  work  for  Monday. ' ' 

**I  earned  these  thirty-two  dollars  to  go  toward 
my  spring  clothes,"  said  Clarence.  "I  saw  an  ad  in 
the  paper  asking  for  a  man  for  a  small  carpentry  job. 
I  went  to  the  place,  and  the  lady  said  she  would  risk 
me,  seeing  as  I  looked  honest  and  labor  was  scarce. 
I  built  her  a  chicken  coop  and  a  runway.  She  says 
it's  first  rate.  But  I'd  be  glad,  dad,  if  you'd  go 
over  and  take  a  look  at  the  roof  I  put  on." 


TWO  BEOTHERS 

Georgie  and  Billie  were  brothers.  They  had  the 
same  father  and  mother,  but  there  the  similarity 
seemed  to  end. 

BiUie  was  square,  freckled  faced,  stubby  haired, 
pug-nosed,  aggressive.  Georgie  was  slender,  fair, 
gentle,  retiring. 

Fourth  of  July  was  coming.  The  boys  in  the  vil- 
lage were  planning  to  buy  fireworks.  That  meant 
that  money  was  needed  badly. 

** Father,"  said  Billie,  **will  you  lend  me  ten 
cents?" 

*'Whatfor?" 

"I  want  to  make  some  money." 

**How?" 

**I  can  buy  flags  for  two  for  a  cent  from  Dutchie. 
I  can  sell  them  at  a  cent  apiece.  You  lend  me  a  dime. 
I  can  soon  make  it  and  pay  it  back.  I  'm  going  to  sell 
a  lot  of  flags  and  get  a  lot  of  fireworks." 

'  *  All  right, ' '  said  father.  * '  Here  *s  your  dime.  Do 
you  want  one  too,  Georgie?" 

' '  Yes,  if  BilUe  does.   I  '11  do  what  Billie  does. ' ' 

Father  gave  each  his  dime  and  the  two  went  off 
to  invest.  In  a  short  while  Georgie  returned  and 
handed  his  father  the  10  cents. 

*' Thanks,"  he  said.    "I  sold  all  mine." 

**Good.    Where  is  BilUe?" 

**0h,  he's  selling  more.  He  is  going  to  sell  a  lot. 
I  don't  want  to  sell  any  more." 

311 


312  CHILD  TRAINING 

"What  did  you  do  with  your  money  I" 

**What  money?" 

**The  money  you  got  for  the  flags." 

**I  gave  it  to  you." 

**No.    I  mean  the  money  you  made  for  yourself." 

"I  didn't  have  any  more  money.  I  bought  my 
flags  for  ten  cents  and  I  sold  them  again  for  ten 
cents." 

*'But,  Georgie,  didn't  you  buy  them  two  for  a  cent 
and  sell  them  for  a  cent  apiece?" 

**0h,  no !  I  bought  them  two  for  a  cent  and  I  sold 
them  two  for  a  cent.  I  couldn't  take  a  cent  for  them 
when  I  only  paid  half  a  cent  for  them,  could  II" 

Father  was  stumped.  "But  you  went  out  to  make 
some  money.'* 

"Oh,  no !"  said  Georgie.  "I  only  went  out  to  sell 
some  flags.  'Twas  lots  of  fun.  I  sold  mine  quicker 
than  anybody.  But  the  boys  said  I  was  spoiling 
their  business,  so  I  came  in." 

By  and  by  Bill  reported  home  for  tea.  "How's 
business?"  asked  father. 

"Great!  Sold  a  lot.  Here's  your  ten  cents.  I 
made  50  cents,  all  told.  That's  a  quarter  for  me  and 
a  quarter  for  Georgie.  He 's  no  business  man.  But 
that  doesn't  matter  as  long  as  I'm  on  the  job." 


PAYING  HIS  SHARE 

The  boys  were  playing  hand  ball  against  the  wall 
of  the  schoolhouse  and,  after  the  manner  of  balls, 
this  one  went  through  the  nearest  window,  the  end 
one,  into  Miss  Lavinia's  room. 

''There,  now,  we'll  all  have  to  club  together  and 
buy  a  new  pane  of  glass.  Old  Michael  said  that  we'd 
have  to  pay  for  the  next  one  we  broke." 

*'How  much  it  is?"  asked  Billy  anxiously. 

*  *  He  said  the  last  one  cost  a  dollar  and  a  half  and 
there  are  six  of  us.  How  much  will  that  be  for  each 
of  usT '  asked  Binks,  the  captain,  who  was  no  mathe- 
matician, and  admitted  it. 

** Twenty-five  cents,"  said  Billy,  sorrowfully. 
**My  mother  won't  like  it." 

''Mine,  neither,"  said  Binks,  cheerfully.  "She'll 
make  me  take  it  out  of  my  own  money  and  I  was 
saving  up  for  a  new  mit.    No  luck. ' ' 

That  evening  Billy  told  his  mother  about  tiie 
broken  glass  and  the  agreement  among  the  boys  to 
replace  it. 

"Did  you  break  the  glass?"  asked  his  mother. 

"No.  But  I  was  playing  when  it  happened,  just  as 
the  others  were.  It  was  one  of  the  others  that  threw 
the  ball,  but  that  doesn't  matter." 

"Well,  I  think  it  does.  Let  the  boy  who  broke  the 
pane  pay  for  it.  You  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  and 
I  won't  have  you  blamed  for  it,  and  I  won't  have  you 
paying  for  some  other  boy's  mischief." 

"But,  mother,  it  wasn't  mischief,  and  we  were  all 

313 


814  CHILD  TRAINING 

playing.  I  have  to  pay  my  share.  When  I  play  with 
the  boys,  I  must  pay  with  them.'* 

**Well,  I  say  you  won't,  and  that  settles  it." 

Billy  was  dejected.  How  was  he  to  face  the  boys 
in  the  morning  without  his  quarter?  How  was  he 
going  to  tell  the  boys  that  his  mother  wouldn  't  give 
him  the  quarter  to  pay  his  share?  He  worried  all 
night  about  it.  The  next  morning  on  the  way  to 
school  he  met  Miss  Lavinia.  She  immediately 
scented  trouble. 

"Tell  me  about  it,  Billy.  I  can  usually  see  a  way 
out  for  boys  when  they  are  in  trouble. ' ' 

He  poured  out  his  story.  **And  I  don't  see  how  I 
can  tell  the  boys,  and  I  don't  see  how  I  can  get  the 
money. ' ' 

Miss  Lavinia  knew  Billy's  mother  well  and  knew 
how  to  get  her  to  see  that  she  was  doing  to  the  boy 
exactly  what  she  thought  she  was  saving  him  from — 
placing  him  at  the  mercy  of  his  mates  and  teaching 
them  contempt  for  him  and  for  her. 

**Well,  BiUy,  you  see  you  owe  the  school  this 
money.  All  you  have  to  do  is  just  to  say  that  on  a 
piece  of  paper.  Give  me  your  note  for  twenty-five 
cents.  Put  it  in  an  envelope  and  when  the  boys  come 
to  pay  me,  you  hand  me  your  envelope.  I'll  take 
your  note  for  the  twenty-five  cents.  I'll  explain  to 
your  mother  about  collecting  the  note. ' ' 

That  afternoon  Miss  Lavinia  called  on  Billy's 
mother.  *  *  Little  boys  are  queer  things, ' '  said  Billy 's 
mother  when  the  teacher  was  departing,  *  *  and  some- 
times their  own  mothers  don't  understand,  never 
having  been  boys.  But  I'm  ever  so  much  obliged  to 
you.  Miss  Lavinia,  for  as  you  say  he  is  the  best  child 
in  the  world  and  I'd  hate  to  have  anything  go  wrong 
with  him." 


THE  TROUBLE  MAKER 

*'Jimmie  is  a  terror.  He  breaks  up  every  game 
when  he  arrives.  He  leaves  a  string  of  threatening, 
crying  children  behind  him  every  time  he  leaves  the 
playground.  He  generally  leaves  in  a  hurry.  He 
makes  the  teacher  wish  she  was  twins,  one  of  whom 
could  watch  Jimmie  while  the  other  taught  the  class. 

''He's  a  fine-looking  lad,  with  a  shapely  head  that 
turns  on  his  neck  as  though  it  were  on  ball  bearings. 
He  can  see  all  four  sides  with  no  effort  worth  men- 
tioning. His  hands  and  feet  move  like  lightning. 
He  talks  but  little  while  in  action,  which  is  most  of 
the  time.   He 's  a  terror. '  * 

So  ran  the  note  attached  to  his  record  card.  The 
principal  sighed  as  he  laid  it  down.  True,  all  true, 
every  word  of  it.  Jimmie  lived  so  hard  and  so  earn- 
estly that  he  got  in  his  own  way  and  that  of  all  the 
other  children. 

''Give  him  plenty  of  work,"  he  said  to  the  des- 
pairing teacher. 

*'I  do.  He  has  it  all  done  before  I  get  through 
giving  the  general  orders.  I  correct  it  and  give  him 
some  more  until  I  dare  not  ask  him  to  do  more.  The 
minute  he  lays  his  book  or  pencil  down  it's  all  over 
with  the  rest  of  the  class.  He's  pinching  somebody 
or  spilling  his  ink  or  crawling  under  the  desk  to  pinch 
somebody's  legs.  I  simply  cannot  have  him  in  the 
room  with  forty  others.    He  needs  a  teacher  all  to 

315 


316  CHILD  TRAINING 

himself,  and  the  rest  of  the  class  need  the  refreshing 
influence  of  his  absence." 

*'True,  all  true,"  said  the  principal.  "Yet  this 
boy  has  to  be  taught.  Some  way  has  to  be  found  to 
harness  this  surplus  energy  and  direct  it  towards 
usefulness.  Jimmie  is  a  bright,  sensitive  boy,  but  he 
is  going  to  seed  fast.    Something  must  be  done." 

The  principal's  eye  fell  on  the  manuscript  of  the 
play  the  school  was  about  to  put  on  for  Christmas. 
A  smile  came  to  his  eye  and  he  said  to  the  teacher, 
*'I  think  we  can  fix  him.  Can  you  live  with  him  for 
a  few  days  more  ? ' ' 

''I've  stood  him  for  three  months;  I  can  stand  him 
for  three  days,  especially  if  I  have  hope  to  cheer  me 
on,"  she  said  laughingly.  ''But,  really,  he's  almost 
impossible. ' ' 

The  principal  called  the  dramatic  teacher  into  con- 
ference. ' '  I  want  him  cured  of  his  impishness.  Now, 
my  idea  is  that  you  cast  him  for  the  chief  of  imps. 
Let  him  be  the  imp  of  imps.  But  pitch  the  play  so 
the  event  goes  against  him  and  leaves  him  out  in  the 
cold  world  of  the  children 's  disapproval.  Make  them 
dislike  the  imp  of  imps.  We'll  give  him  a  dose  of 
dramatics  that  will  settle  his  dramatic  instinct  for 
impishness  for  all  time." 

It  worked.  It  always  does.  A  child  who  is  always 
raising  the  michief  and  making  life  miserable  for 
those  about  him  is  dramatizing  his  impish  spirit. 
Let  him  have  it  out  to  his  soul's  content.  When  he  is 
satisfied,  he  will  direct  his  steps  towards  another  end. 
For  until  the  craving  is  satisfied  there  is  no  rest  for 
Jimmie  or  anybody  that  has  to  do  with  Jimmie. 


THE  CADDIE 

Fritz  sat  ©n  the  doorstep  of  the  bam,  his  hands 
clutched  in  his  hair,  a  pucker  between  his  eyes,  so  still 
that  Budge  grew  uneasy  and  whined  and  tried  to  lick 
his  face.  Fritz  hunched  him  aside  without  a  word. 
These  were  signs  of  deep  thought,  unusually  deep. 

Pete  came  across  and  sat  beside  him.  After  a 
decent  interval  be  said,  *' What's  the  matter,  Fritz?" 

"I'm  making  up  my  mind." 

"What  about?"  asked  Pete,  anxiously.  Pete 
hated  to  have  people  make  up  their  minds.  It  gen- 
erally meant  something  disagreeable  for  some  one 
who  did  not  travel  in  line  with  the  mind  made  up. 

"I'm  going  to  caddie  again  this  season." 

"So  'ml.    What  of  it?" 

"I'm  making  up  my  mind  not  to  caddie  for  the 
grouch  I  followed  all  over  the  links  last  year." 

"But,"  said  the  anxious  Pete,  "if  you  draw  him, 
you  have  to.  If  he's  next  off,  what  can  you  do.  The 
caddie  master  '11  make  you  go  out. ' ' 

* '  That 's  what  I  'm  making  up  my  mind  about.  I  'm 
going  over  to  ask  Dr.  Mason  if  I  can  caddie  for  him 
this  season.  If  I  ask  him,  I  guess  he'll  say  yes,  and 
then  he  will  fix  it  up  with  the  caddie  master. ' ' 

'What '11  you  say  when  he  asks  you  why?" 

"I'll  tell  him  how  that  man  treated  me  all  last 
summer.  Almost  every  day  I  drew  him  and  he  never 
treated  me  decently  once.    Do  you  know  what  he'd 

317 


318  CHILD  TEAINING 

do?  He'd  take  every  club  he  owned  in  his  bag  every 
time  he  went  out. 

*'He  had  three  drivers  and  he  made  me  carry  all 
three.  Do  you  get  that?  He'd  stand  over  his  ball 
and  swing  and  swing  a  couple  of  times  and  then  he  'd 
say,  *Boy,  hand  me  the  driver.' 

**I'd  hand  him  the  driver  and  he'd  say,  'Not  that 
one,  you  fool.  Can't  they  get  any  boyg  around  here 
that  know  something?' 

*  *  Then  he  'd  whack  the  ball  and  slice  it  or  pull  it  or 
something  and  then  he'd  swear  at  me  something 
awful. 

**Next  time  he  teed  up  he'd  stand  over  the  ball  and 
swing  and  swing  and  then  all  of  a  sudden  he  'd  turn 
round  and  holler  at  me,  *Boy,  what  do  you  mean  by 
breathing  like  that  when  I'm  about  to  drive  off?' 
and  me  not  breathing  at  all. 

''I've  made  up  my  mind  not  to  caddie  for  him  this 
season.  I'm  going  right  over  now  and  ask  Dr. 
Mason.    Say,  Pete,  you  come  along  with  me." 

' '  Sure.  Then  you  come  along  with  me  and  I  '11  ask 
the  Colonel  if  I  can  be  his  caddie.  He  always  goes 
out  with  the  doctor  and  we  can  have  more  fun  that 
way." 

Golf  is  a  gentleman's  game.  The  little  fellows 
who  follow  the  gentlemen  about,  carrying  their 
sticks  and  tracing  their  balls,  are  only  children. 
They  look  up  to  the  gentlemen.  Sometimes  the  gen- 
tlemen forget. 


MINE  OWN 

The  boy  who  lives  in  our  house  is  a  bad  penman. 
That  may  be  the  reason  that  he  is  a  bad  correspond- 
ent. Whatever  the  reason  he  never  writes  a  note  or 
a  letter  until  he  is  driven  to  it. 

A  kindly  admirer  gave  him  a  Scout  knife.  He 
gloated  over  it.  He  went  up  and  down  the  house 
trying  to  find  things  that  needed  to  be  cut.  He  made 
each  member  of  the  family  watch  how  it  shaved  the 
edge  of  a  sheet  of  paper  until  everybody's  teeth  were 
on  edge.  At  night  he  placed  the  beloved  object  on 
his  bedside  table.  *'You  never  can  tell  when  you 
may  need  a  knife  in  the  night, ' '  said  he  impressively. 
Did  he  write  an  enthusiastic  note  of  thanks  to  the 
friend  who  had  given  him  all  this  pleasure?  He  did 
nothing  of  the  sort.  Not  at  all.  When  he  unwrapped 
it  and  the  first  joyous  rapture  had  subsided  his 
mother  told  him  he  must  write  a  note  of  thanks  at 
once. 

* '  Do  it  right  away  and  then  you  won 't  forget  it.  It 
would  be  dreadful  to  be  late  in  thanking  a  friend  who 
had  given  you  such  a  fine  gift. ' ' 

"All  right.  I  will.  I  wonder  if  it  will  cut  cedar 
boughs.  I'll  need  it  to  cut  cedar  boughs  in  the 
country,"  And  he  went  out  to  the  kitchen  to  take  a 
splinter  off  the  egg  box. 

"I'd  go  and  write  that  note  if  I  were  you,"  said 
grandma.   '  *  It  would  be  bad  to  forget  it.  *  * 

319 


320  CHILD  TEAINING 

"Huh,  huh.  I'll  write,  Gram.  Isn't  she  sharp 
though.    Cut  a  hair. ' ' 

Several  nights  afterwards  his  mother  thought  of 
the  note.   '  *  Did  you  write  that  note  for  your  knife  ? ' ' 

*  *  Oh,  gee,  no  1   I  forgot. ' ' 

*' You  forgot !  Go  this  minute  and  write  that  note 
and  bring  it  to  me.  This  minute.  That  is  disgrace- 
ful.   You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself." 

Then,  as  is  the  way  in  all  families,  each  in  suc- 
cession and  all  in  concert  told  him  what  a  lazy 
discourteous,  ungrateful  child  he  was.  He  fled  to 
write  his  note.  By  and  by  he  returned  to  the  room 
and  laid  two  sheets  of  paper  before  his  mother.  "I 
wrote  my  note  for  the  knife  and  the  other  is  an 
answer  for  an  advertisement  for  ink  powder.  It 
paints  anything  and  the  color  won 't  come  off.  It 's 
blue,  all  shades.  You  send  a  stamp  and  you  get  a 
sample.  It  paints  houses,  dyes  clothes,  does  every- 
thing." 

The  powder  came  and  he  mixed  and  stirred  and 
messed.  He  announced  that  it  made  ink.  You  could 
write  with  it,  too,  and  he  showed  a  sample  of  it.  To 
be  sure,  it  made  a  gray  mark  that  seemed  to  be 
retiring  modestly  into  the  background,  but  to  him  it 
left  nothing  to  be  desired.  It  was  his.  He  had 
made  it. 

Then  he  wrote.  He  wrote  another  letter  for  the 
knife,  twice  as  long  as  the  first.  He  wrote  to  his 
cousin,  to  his  chum  who  lived  down  the  block,  to  his 
grandmother  in  the  same  room.  He  wrote,  wrote, 
wrote. 

The  joy  of  the  creator  was  his.    He  had  made  ink. 

"A  poor  thing,  my  lord,  but  mine  own." 


OWNING  HIM 

Gerald  was  seventeen  years  old  and  in  the  last  year 
of  high  school.  He  was  what  everybody  calls  a  fine 
boy — so  obliging,  so  willing,  so  pleasant  to  every- 
body. Stood  well  in  school,  too.  His  mother  loved 
him  to  insanity  and  was  so  proud  of  him  that  she 
made  a  grave  mistake.    She  thought  she  owned  him. 

**  Gerald,  I  told  Mrs.  Hunter  that  you  would  be 
glad  to  take  charge  of  the  tickets  at  the  door  next 
Wednesday  night.  It 's  the  oyster  supper,  you  know, 
given  for  the  benefit  of  the  public  library.  Don't 
forget,  dear — Wednesday  evening.  Be  there 
promptly  at  seven  thirty." 

**  Very  well,  mother." 

Soon  again:  **0h,  Gerald,  I  promised  Granny 
Heathe  that  you  would  go  over  and  fix  the  cords  on 
her  window  shades.  They  don't  seem  to  work.  She 
seemed  so  pleased.  Be  sure  to  do  it  early  Saturday 
morning." 

*'Yes,  I'll  remember,"  he  said  cheerfully. 

Graduation  time  came.  Gerald  stood  at  the  head 
of  his  class.  He  was  to  make  the  oration  of  the 
evening.  Mother  was  beside  herself  with  pride  and 
joy.  Gerald  took  it  all  quietly,  as  his  father  did.  He 
would  do  his  very  best  and  never  say  a  word  about 
how  hard  he  had  tried  in  the  doing. 

The  school  auditorium  was  small  and  there  were 
only  five  tickets  for  each  graduate.    Gerald  gave  his 

321 


322  CHILD  TRAINING 

five  to  his  mother,  saying,  **I  should  like  to  have 
one  of  them  for  a  friend  of  mine." 

**0h,  I  promised  them  all,  Gerald.  You  have  so 
many  friends  and  five  tickets  are  so  few."  And 
mother  never  saw  the  look  of  dismay  that  Gerald 
turned  upon  her  and  the  appeal  that  his  eyes  made 
to  his  father. 

**I  want  it  for  my  girl,  dad.  She's  simply  got  to 
be  there.  I  can't  tell  mother  about  it,  because  she 
has  given  them  all  away.  I  never  thought  that  she 
would  do  that  without  leaving  one  for  me." 

**I'll  have  to  try  to  get  you  one,"  fiaid  father. 
*'I'll  explain." 

But  mother  had  given  them  all  away  to  her 
friends;  ** Gerald's  friends",  she  said. 

With  much  embarrassment  Gerald  told  his  teacher 
what  had  happened.  ** That's  a  shame,"  said  the 
teacher.  **Tell  you  what,  I'll  go  round  and  get  her 
and  bring  her  in  my  car  and  take  her  in  on  my  pass. 
Doesn't  your  mother  know  about  your  girl?" 

**I  don't  know.  I  tell  her,  but  she  doesn't  seem 
to  take  her  seriously." 

**That  woman  ought  to  have  a  good  talking  to," 
muttered  the  schoolmaster  to  himself  as  he  started 
after  the  girl  that  night.  *  *  Thinks  she  owns  her  son. 
Gives  him  away  generously.  Never  consults  him  at 
all.  Gives  away  his  time,  his  work,  his  energy.  His 
girl's  ticket  to  his  graduation  goes  with  the  rest. 
She  needs  a  good  talking  to." 

You  don't  own  your  children.  You  cannot  own 
them.  Don't  try  it.  If  you  do,  somebody  is  bound 
to  suffer. 


TO  EACH  HIS  GIFT 

**It*s  certainly  too  bad,  Louise.  But  then,  he's 
yours  and  you'll  have  to  make  the  best  of  him.  Still, 
he  doesn't  take  after  any  of  us.  Too  bad  he's  so 
queer.    Now,  my  five  boys " 

**Yes,  yes,  Mary,"  Jimmie's  mother  broke  in 
hastily  to  forestall  the  recital  of  the  virtues  of  her 
sister's  boys.  "Yes,  indeed.  You  have  fine  boys. 
None  better.  But  I  find  no  fault  with  Jimmie.  He  '11 
come  out  all  right." 

** That's  just  it.  You  should  find  fault  with  him. 
He's  no  boy  at  all.  Helping  you  around  the  house 
and  playing  with  rags,  just  like  a  girl.  It's  not 
right." 

That  was  what  everybody  said  about  Jimmie.  The 
boys  called  him  ** Lizzie",  and  the  girls  turned  up 
their  noses  at  him.  But  Jimmie  kept  serenely  on  his 
way,  his  ** queer  way". 

He  liked  to  handle  lovely  materials  like  velvet  and 
silk  and  chiffon.  He  collected  and  traded  with  them 
as  other  lads  did  for  what  they  liked.  He  sorted  and 
re-sorted  his  collection,  and  gloated  over  a  new  piece 
like  an  old  and  confirmed  collector. 

When  his  mother  went  to  the  dry  goods  shop 
Jimmie  begged  to  go  with  her,  and  she  secretly  relied 
upon  his  taste  and  judgment.  He  had  a  voice  in 
selecting  her  dresses  and  hats.  He  had  a  fine  eye  for 
a  hat. 

His  mother  was  troubled.    Scissors  and  thread 

323 


324  CHILD  TRAINING 

and  needles  were  all  right  for  a  girl ;  but  a  boy?  Was 
it  right?  Yes,  she  thought  it  must  be,  for  Jimmie 
was  a  good  boy,  healthy  and  fun-loving,  with  all  his 
queemess.  She  would  let  him  have  his  pleasure 
about  the  bits  of  goods  and  his  work  with  them. 

His  teachers  were  troubled.  This  boy  did  his 
lessons  well,  but  he  took  little  interest  in  the  things 
the  other  boys  did.  He  did  not  like  to  play  their 
games,  and  he  did  not  share  their  interests. 

**He  shows  no  taste  for  any  one  thing! "  asked  his 
mother. 

**WeU,'*  said  the  embarrassed  instructor,  "he 
would  like  to  stay  in  the  millinery  room  with  the 
girls  if  I  'd  let  him. ' ' 

An  idea  occurred  to  his  mother.  "Why  not  let 
him  stay?" 

*' Because  he  is  a  boy.  He  ought  to  be  trained  Uke 
a  boy." 

**I  don't  believe  that  is  much  of  a  reason,"  said  the 
mother,  inwardly  quaking,  though  keeping  a  brave 
front.    *  *  Send  him  there,  please. ' ' 

On  her  way  home  she  said  to  herself,  ''I've  done 
it  now.  At  least,  I  will  make  sure  about  this  one 
thing.  It  may  be  his  work,  and  I  believe  it  is,  for  he 
is  a  good  boy." 

Now  he  makes  hats  and  signs  his  name  in  their 
bands,  for  which  people  are  glad  to  pay  anything  he 
asks.   He  is  an  artist,  happy  in  his  work. 

**I  knew  he  would  be  aU  right,"  said  his  mother. 

**I  never  would  have  believed  it,"  said  his  aunt. 
"My  boys  are  so  different." 


WHICH? 

Doctor,  lawyer,  merchant,  plumber, 
Chauffeur,  engineer,  broker,  drummer? 

What  was  the  boy  going  to  be  ?  Of  course  you  had 
an  idea  of  what  you  would  like  him  to  be.  You  sent 
him  to  the  school  where  you  thought  they  would  train 
him  for  it.    Then  he  went  to  college. 

The  first  year  things  weren't  so  bad,  but  they 
might  have  been  better.  A  vague  notion  stirred 
within  you  that  perhaps  the  instructors  hadn't  un- 
derstood the  boy.  Certainly  they  hadn't  done  very 
much  for  him. 

The  boys  in  college  liked  him.  They  elected  him  to 
their  fraternities.  The  best  people  in  the  town  in- 
vited him  to  their  homes.  He  was  a  social  success. 
His  college  record  wasn't  so  bad,  but  it  raised  a  doubt 
in  your  mind. 

At  the  end  of  the  year  he  came  home  for  his  vaca- 
tion. He  announced  that  he  didn't  want  to  go  back 
to  college.  He  didn't  care  about  the  things  they 
did  there.    One  got  nowhere. 

Just  where  did  "one"  want  to  go?  you  inquired 
gently.    Trouble  dwelt  in  your  soul  that  night. 

Why,  there  was  nothing  doing  in  the  coUege. 
There  was  no  job  a  fellow  could  lay  his  hands  to. 
One  wanted  to  use  one 's  hands.  Now,  in  a  machine 
shop  there  was  something  to  be  done.  Engines  to 
take  apart  and  put  together.    That  was  something. 

325 


326  CHILD  TRAINING 

Could  he  take  a  job  in  the  automobile  factory  for 
the  summer?  A  factory  had  an  opening  for  him  and 
he  would  like  to  take  it. 

You  thought  of  his  mother  and  his  sisters.  The 
family  were  all  college  trained.  Mother  and  father 
and  grandfathers.  Now  this  one,  the  only  son  of  the 
house,  would  break  the  tradition  and  go  out  into  the 
world  without  his  college  degree.  What  would  the 
family  say? 

You  looked  at  the  boy  and  liked  the  looks  of  him, 
the  clean-cut,  manly  bearing  of  him.  He  didn't  say 
he  wouldn't  go  back.  He  might  have.  He  said,  **I 
don't  want  to  go  back,  if  you  please."  Something 
whispered  to  you  that  it  would  be  well  for  you  to  let 
him  have  his  way. 

You  smiled  at  him  and  said,  **You  will  get  very 
dirty." 

''I've  been  very  dirty  often,  and  it  has  always 
washed  off,"  he  smiled  back.  ''Will  you  tell 
mother?" 

You  said  you  would,  for  you  knew  that  if  the 
buttons  of  fate  did  not  forecast  ''doctor,  merchant, 
chief,'*  it  was  futile  for  you  to  try  to  shift  them. 

And  perhaps?   Who  knows? 


PAET  VI 
ADOLESCENCE 


THE   ADOLESCENT   BOY 

Have  you  an  adolescent  boy? 

Will  you  please  let  him  alone? 

*'But  he  is  constantly  doing  something  he  ought 
not  to  do." 

I  know  it.  He  will  do  a  great  many  things  in  the 
wrong  way  for  a  long  time  to  come.  Your  nagging 
him  about  them  will  not  help  at  all.  It  will  drive 
him  into  hysterics. 

The  growing  boy  is  an  unbalanced,  lumbering 
creature,  trying  to  feel  his  way  about  through  a 
world  littered  with  obstacles.  It  is  difficult  at  best 
for  him  to  get  about  the  house  without  crashing  into 
the  furniture;  much  less  can  he  make  the  delicate 
distinctions  and  decisions  of  society. 

His  nerves  are  raw.  His  body  is  pulling  four  ways 
to  the  middle  and  back  again.  His  hands  are  too  big 
and  so  are  his  feet.  He  is  impelled  by  heroic  emo- 
tions one  instant  and  reduced  to  tears  and  babyhood 
the  next. 

'  *  But  I  find  him  very  trying. ' ' 

Not  any  more  so  than  he  finds  you,  I  assure  you. 
You  are  constantly  urging  him  to  conform  when  he  is 
least  fitted  to  conform.  Nothing  about  him  con- 
forms. Not  even  the  clothes  that  fitted  him  so  well 
last  week.  This  week  they  looked  as  though  he  had 
borrowed  them  from  some  enemy  bent  upon  stran- 
gling him. 

The  situation  that  so  annoys  you  to-day  will  by  to- 

329 


330  CHILD  TRAINING 

morrow  have  passed  into  the  limbo  of  the  forgotten 
things  and  a  perfectly  new  one,  quite  as  annoying, 
will  have  arisen  in  its  place.  A  new  mood  envelopes 
him.  Then  why  say  so  much  about  such  fleeting 
things? 

* '  One  must  live  with  him.  He  cannot  grow  up  all 
sixes  and  sevens.    He  is  almost  impossible. ' ' 

Be  calm.  Think  of  the  millions  of  boys  who  have 
grown  up  safely.  They  were  all  ** trying"  at  one 
time.  They  outgrew  it.  Many  of  them  have  bitter 
memories  of  their  boyhood.  Many  of  them  will  carry 
to  their  graves  the  soul  scars  that  were  inflicted  in 
these  trying  days.  Ask  the  men  you  know  about 
what  happened  to  them.  Ask  them  if  they  were 
happy,  and  why.    They  will  help  you  to  understand. 

Sit  down  and  think  the  boy  over.  What  does  he  do 
that  annoys  you  most?  Make  a  list  of  his  errors. 
Now  cross  out  the  ones  that  you  are  sure  he  will  out- 
grow in  time. 

Speak  to  him  privately  about  the  ones  that  are 
important  and  cannot  wait  for  to-morrow.  The  fact 
that  the  admonition  is  private  will  make  it  the  more 
impressive.    Try  to  cure  one  fault  at  a  time. 

But  whatever  you  do,  make  sure  that  the  family 
do  not  pick  on  him. 


THE  BOY  AND  THE  GIEL 

If  you  want  to  arouse  curiosity  in  adolescents  just 
whisper.  The  thing  that  you  whisper  takes  on  an 
alluring  mystery.  A  mystery  to  the  high  school  child 
is  sauce  to  his  pudding. 

If  you  want  to  kill  mystery  and  prying  curiosity 
speak  out  loud.  Treat  the  subject  under  discussion 
as  a  commonplace.  Fit  it  into  the  niche  reserved  for 
the  colorless  things  of  life  and  it  becomes  of  little 
moment. 

There  was  a  school  teacher  once  who  had  more 
cases  of  boy  and  girl  troubles  than  all  the  other 
teachers  in  the  school.  If  you  had  told  him  that  he 
created  them  he  would  have  denied  it  apoplectically. 
He  ?  Never !  Why,  he  was  about  the  only  one  in  the 
school  that  took  a  proper  interest  in  the  morals  of  the 
boys  and  the  girls.  The  rest  of  us  were  lax  to  the 
point  of  recklessness. 

Poor  man.  His  was  a  dreary  life.  The  young 
rascals  used  valuable  time  that  might  have  been  put 
to  really  useful  purposes  to  fold  curiously  contrived 
cocked  hat  notes  and  pass  them  across  the  room  when 
he  was  looking. 

All  work  was  immediately  suspended.  The  cul- 
prits were  sternly  ordered  to  stand  and  deliver  the 
evidence  of  their  guilt.  They  led  him  on  to  storm 
and  rave  about  their  depravity,  their  idleness,  their 
waste  of  valuable  time.    The  class  sat  in  smiling  en- 

331 


332  CHILD  TRAINING 

joyment  of  the  little  farce  all  planned  out  in  the  cloak 
room  the  day  before. 

Nothing  cured  him.  Not  even  when  the  notes 
proved  to  be  blank.  At  dismissal  time  he  insisted 
that  the  boys  leave  by  one  exit  and  the  girls  by 
another.  Woe  to  the  boy  or  the  girl  who  was  found 
on  the  wrong  staircase !  That  meant  another  investi- 
gation— and  more  fun. 

He  made  a  deep  impression.  The  thing  became  a 
nuisance  to  all  of  us.  One  day  a  new  principal  came 
to  preside  over  the  school.  One  of  his  first  orders 
was  to  remove  the  fence  between  the  boys '  yard  and 
the  girls'.  Open  all  entrances  and  exits  alike  for 
boys  and  girls.  Take  for  granted  that  they  were 
going  about  their  legitimate  business  unless  there 
was  obvious  proof  to  the  contrary.  Make  no  remarks 
about  their  relations  or  associations  in  whispers. 
Say  anything  that  had  to  be  said  about  them  out  loud 
and  make  it  very  brief. 

Children  who  reached  the  high  school  were  gener- 
ally normal,  healthy  children,  and  all  normal,  healthy 
children  tend  to  right  conduct. 

The  defender  of  our  morals  shook  his  head  sadly 
and  then  shook  the  dust  of  our  school  from  off  his 
feet.    He  could  not  be  a  party  to  such  negligence. 

And  there  fell  a  great  cahn  on  that  place. 


LOAFING 

Children  entering  upon  adolescence  are  prone  to 
loafing.  Often  it  worries  their  parents  to  the  point 
of  exasperation. 

** What's  the  matter  with  you?  Why  do  you  sit 
there  doing  nothing?  I  have  watched  you  for  the 
past  half -hour  and  you've  made  about  two  marks 
on  that  piece  of  paper.  When  do  you  intend  to  get 
down  to  work? 

*' Don't  you  ever  intend  to  do  anything  until  you 
are  driven  to  it  ?  There  are  the  shoes  I  have  told  you 
to  take  to  the  cobbler's  every  day  this  week.  There 
they  lie.  How  do  you  expect  to  have  shoes  to  put  on 
when  you  need  them? 

"WTien  do  you  intend  to  grow  up?  My  goodness, 
I  can 't  be  at  your  heels  picking  up  after  you  all  the 
days  of  your  life,  reminding  you  that  you  are  alive. 
Wake  up  and  do  something. 

''You  forgot!  Do  you  ever  remember?  I  never 
saw  such  a  child,  never.   All  you  do  is  nothing. ' ' 

All  true,  every  bit  of  it.  It  is  too  bad  that  one 
forgets  the  troubles  of  youth  once  he  has  left  them 
behind  in  the  difficulties  of  middle  age.  Think  back 
a  few  years  and  see  if  you  cannot  remember  yourself 
sitting  or  standing  still  and  doing  nothing  at  all,  just 
breathing. 

You  had  a  hazy  notion  that  just  around  the  comer 
there  was  plenty  to  be  done  and  somebody  who  would 
come  along  soon  and  demand  a  reckoning.    Didn't 

333 


334  CHILD  TEAINING 

you  ever  go  round  by  the  barn  or  crouch  along  under 
cover  of  the  wind  break  of  cedars  to  escape  some 
hawk-eyed  guardian? 

Didn't  you  ever  lie  on  your  back  and  listen  to  the 
people  calling  you  and  lazily  determine  about  how 
much  longer  it  would  be  safe  for  you  to  delay  putting 
in  appearance? 

You  loafed  then,  just  as  the  boy  or  girl  is  loafing 
now.  It  was  the  time  for  loafing.  It  is  their  time 
now.  It  may  be  necessary  for  proper  growth  that 
this  period  of  quiescence  be  granted  them.  At  least, 
allow  for  a  reasonable  amount  of  it. 

I'd  try  to  see  that  the  lazy  one  did  a  reasonable 
amount  of  work  for  a  day.  The  fiber  must  not  be- 
come so  slack  that  it  will  have  to  be  hauled  in  with 
such  violence  as  to  jar  things. 

During  a  season  of  idleness  be  sure  that  it  is  really 
willful  neglect  of  duty  before  upbraiding  him.  The 
adolescent  child  can  stand  a  wonderful  amount  of 
letting  alone. 

Get  in  the  background  of  industry  when  the  child 
is  very  young.  It  will  return  again  then  full  speed 
when  the  period  of  quiescence  has  passed.  To  each 
day  its  bit  of  duty  done,  but 

A  little  fun  to  match  the  sorrow  of  each  day*s 

growing 
And  so  good  morrow. 


WORK 

Work,  persistent,  sustained  effort,  is  one  of  the 
best  experiences  for  the  adolescent  child.  It  is  an 
essential  experience.  There  is  a  strong  tendency  on 
the  part  of  the  fathers  and  mothers  to  save  the  chil- 
dren any  possible  fatigue  or  unpleasantness. 

That  is  but  natural,  and  sometimes  very  wise. 
But  why  should  work  always  be  associated  with  fa- 
tigue and  unpleasantness?  Work  is  a  grind  only 
when  it  is  beyond  our  power,  or  when  it  is  carried 
on  for  too  long  at  a  time,  or  lies  without  our  in- 
terests. 

When  it  is  the  solution  of  an  idea  of  our  own,  a 
means  to  some  desired  end,  it  is  no  hardship.  It  be- 
comes a  joy. 

Sometimes  work  is  the  only  thing  that  saves  the 
child's  mind  and  body  from  destruction.  Idleness 
dulls  the  intellect,  makes  the  body  soggy,  the  spirit 
weak,  the  will  flabby.  Idleness  begets  fools.  The 
hotel  lobbies  are  haunted  by  such  as  these.  Give 
the  children  a  chance  to  work. 

What  sort  of  work?  The  sort  they  want  to  do  and 
are  fitted  for.  Every  child  wants  to  do  something. 
He  may  want  to  work  with  a  hammer  and  a  box  of 
nails.  He  may  want  to  build.  He  may  want  to  dig. 
He  may  want  to  sweep  or  clean  things  generally. 
He  may  want  to  sell  things.   Let  him. 

Set  aside  a  room  that  is  known  as  his  workroom 
or  studio,  and  tell  him  that  it  is  for  him  and  keep 

335 


336  CHILD  TRAINING 

your  word  about  it.  Get  the  tools  he  needs  and  en- 
courage him  to  make  others. 

The  musician  needs  an  instrument.  The  modeler 
needs  clay.  The  writer  needs  paper  and  a  typewriter 
and  an  audience.  The  painter  needs  colors  and 
brushes  and  an  exhibit.  The  costumer  needs  ma- 
terial and  a  machine.  All  of  the  young  workers  need 
books  and  teachers  and  encouragement. 

There  is  this  to  remember:  In  every  job  one  un- 
dertakes, whether  he  be  sixteen  or  sixty,  the  time 
comes  when  he  wishes  he  had  never  thought  of  the 
idea.  He  wishes  he  could  drown  it,  bury  it,  bum  it, 
run  away  from  it. 

Then  the  worker  needs  a  wise  counsellor  and  guide. 
He  needs  to  be  helped  over  the  brow  of  the  hill  that 
he  may  reach  the  heights  and  look  afar  to  the  new 
fields  opening  before  him. 

This  is  the  time  when  you  are  likely  to  say,  **0h, 
don 't  bother  with  it.  Give  it  up  and  run  out  to  play. 
It  isn't  worth  working  and  worrying  over." 

But  it  is.  Work  and  worry  over  the  thing  until 
the  idea  wrapped  within  it  comes  forth  in  its  beauty. 
It  is  so  one  weaves  the  fabric  of  his  soul. 


SHARING  THE  LOAD 

An  adolescent  boy  or  girl  ought  to  have  suflficient 
intelligence  to  grasp  the  conditions  of  the  home  and 
take  some  slight  share  in  its  responsibilities  and 
aims.  I'm  thinking  of  the  home  where  there  are  sev- 
eral children  to  be  reared  and  educated  on  a  small 
income,  a  condition  common  in  the  American  home. 

A  lot  of  heartache  could  be  saved  in  such  homes 
if  the  children  were  taken  into  confidence  and  given 
a  share  in  the  home  company.  The  children  often 
appear  selfish  and  unappreciative  when  they  are 
really  ignorant  of  the  actual  conditions  about  them. 

A  little  girl  wants  clothes  as  pretty  and  as  expen- 
sive as  those  of  another  girl  whose  parents  are  richer 
or  perhaps  less  sensible  than  her  own.  She  is  told 
merely  that  she  cannot  have  them.  Her  feelings  are 
hurt.  She  thinks  her  parents  do  not  love  her  as 
much  as  that  other  girl's  do  and  she  sulks. 

If,  from  the  beginning,  her  mother  had  told  her 
that  she  could  not  have  all  the  pretty  things  she  saw, 
that  many  of  them  were  silly  and  most  of  them  did 
not  matter,  and  the  few  that  were  necessary  had  to 
be  simple  and  inexpensive  because  money  was  scarce 
and  had  to  be  spent  wisely ;  if  she  had  told  her  that 
father  was  working  very  hard  and  that  mother  was 
working  and  saving  with  him  so  that  the  children 
might  have  a  good  home  and  a  good  education,  the 
girl  would  have  had  a  basis  for  appreciation.  She 
would  have  learned  to  take  her  end  of  the  load  smil- 

337 


338  CHILD  TRAINING 

ingly  and  helpfully.  And  it  would  have  been  for  her 
own  great  good. 

The  same  thing  holds  true  of  the  boy,  only  in  a 
greater  degree,  for  a  boy  is  bom  with  the  sense  of 
responsibility  for  the  home.  He  learns  early  to 
carry  responsibility  of  that  sort  if  given  a  little  help- 
ful advice  and  training.  He  will  follow  the  example 
set  by  his  parents  and  become  all  the  more  self- 
directing  and  self-sustaining  by  the  experience. 

The  boy  soon  learns  to  save  his  pocket  money  and 
to  add  to  it,  especially  when  his  parents  encourage 
him  by  praising  his  efforts  and  by  their  own  example. 

**I  can't  spend  any  more  money  than  I  possibly 
can  help,"  said  such  a  lad.  ''You  see,  father  is 
under  a  pretty  heavy  load  just  now,  and,  besides, 
we  have  to  save  for  my  college  expenses.  You  know, 
I'd  like  to  be  with  you  in  this,  but  I  can't." 

It  won't  hurt  the  children  to  share  the  home  re- 
sponsibilities as  soon  as  they  get  a  glimpse  of  them. 
It  is  far  the  better  way.  Keeping  secrets  from  them, 
letting  them  live  beyond  their  means,  is  no  kindness. 
It  leads  to  weakness.  Sharing  the  home  interests 
keeps  the  children  close  to  the  parents  and  strength- 
ens the  family  all  around. 


GEOWING  PAINS 

The  different  stages  of  growth  in  children  are  a 
great  trial  to  their  parents.  More  than  half  the 
trouble  children  cause  their  parents  is  due  to  the 
peculiar  stage  of  development  of  the  youngsters  at 
the  time.  Once  the  guardians  recognize  the  condi- 
tions as  symptoms  of  growth,  they  lose  all  sense  of 
irritation. 

When  the  little  girl  gets  in  her  mother's  way  as 
she  wields  the  broom  and  begs  to  hold  the  handle 
too  and  sweep  with  mother,  she  does  not  mean  to  be 
a  nuisance.  She  does  not  dream  that  she  is.  She 
is  actually  trying  to  find  out  what  the  broom  means 
and  what  it  does.  She  is  trying  to  make  growth  by 
first-hand  experience.  If  mother  gets  her  a  little 
broom  and  lets  her  try  it  out  she  will  be  quite  content 
and  do  her  own  sweeping. 

*'I'm  having  a  terrible  time  with  Willie  lately. 
He  keeps  climbing  up  on  everything  and  tumbles 
down.  No  matter  how  many  times  he  falls  he  climbs 
up  again.    It's  terrible." 

The  little  fellow  is  just  trying  to  find  his  back 
and  his  legs.  They  are  calling  on  him  to  strengthen 
and  stretch  them.  Besides,  he  has  a  fierce  curiosity 
that  drives  him  on  to  find  what  things  are  and  what 
they  mean  and  how  they  look  from  *'high  up."  Ee- 
member  that  he  sees  things  from  a  lower  level  than 
his  parents  do. 

Let  him  do  as  much  of  this  searching  as  possible. 

339 


340  CHILD  TRAINING 

If  that  curiosity  is  killed,  something  dies  within  him 
that  can  never  be  replaced.  His  eager  desire  for 
living,  his  joy  in  it,  may  be  taken  from  him  forever. 
Don 't  rob  him  of  his  search  even  if  it  means  scratches 
on  the  furniture  and  bumps  on  his  head.  He  '11  sur- 
vive the  bumps  and  you  can  easily  mend  the 
scratches. 

The  adolescent  child  suffers  most  of  the  growing 
pains.  He  has  so  many  budding  interests  and  quali- 
ties and  so  few  people  understand  and  can  help. 

Suddenly  he  takes  an  unholy  interest  in  jumping, 
wiggly,  crawly  things.  Frogs  and  turtles  lead  hectic 
lives  for  a  while.  The  frogs  get  out  of  their  pans 
and  hop  around  the  house.  The  turtle  appears  in 
the  living  room  when  you  are  entertaining  your  most 
nervous  friend,  the  immaculate  housekeeper. 

Soon  he  will  have  forgotten  the  frogs  and  the  tur- 
tles and  wiU  descend  upon  the  family  with  an  array 
of  wires  and  batteries  and  bells.  The  house  is  a  mess 
with  his  ladders  and  pulleys  and  ropes. 

He  clutters  the  haUs  and  the  bathroom.  Each 
windowsill  carries  its  quota  of  trays  and  bottles. 
Vile  smells  float  from  his  workroom.  You  parents 
hope  that  he  wiU  not  set  fire  to  the  house  nor  break 
his  bones. 

If  parents  will  try  to  understand  that  a  symptom 
of  growth,  a  stage  of  development  in  the  growth 
of  a  child,  is  a  matter  for  guidance  and  not  a  breach 
of  family  discipUne  half  the  troubles  of  bringing 
up  the  family  will  be  adjusted. 


PAET  vn 

VACATION  TIME 


VACATION  AHEAD 

The  schools  are  closing.  Vacation  lies  just  ahead. 
The  children  are  happy  in  the  thought  of  the  freedom 
the  summer  days  hold.  But  the  fathers  and  mothers 
are  troubled  by  the  thought  of  the  long  and  empty 
hours  stretching  before  them.  How  shall  the  chil- 
dren be  kept  busy  and  happy? 

The  fortunate  few  will  go  off  to  camp  for  the  sea- 
son. Their  days  will  be  programed  and  their  work 
and  play  planned  for  them  by  experts.  They  will 
walk  and  swim  and  play  games.  They  will  get  close 
to  the  great  outdoors.    Fortunate  children. 

But  for  those  who  must  stay  at  home?  The  par- 
ents must  do  the  planning  and  most  of  the  teaching, 
too.  If  the  children  are  to  be  kept  well  and  happy 
they  must  have  a  regular  program.  If  you  watch 
carefully  you  will  notice  that  the  children  are  never 
so  well  the  first  week  after  school  closes  as  a  few 
weeks  later. 

This  is  because  they  have  broken  their  routine. 
They  have  broken  the  physical  and  mental  habits 
of  the  past  ten  months.  New  habits  have  to  be  estab- 
lished, new  rhythm  of  body  and  mind,  and  it  upsets 
the  children. 

It  is  not  good  for  children  to  lie  abed  in  the  morn- 
ing. It  is  far  better  for  them  to  rise  at  the  usual 
time,  have  their  breakfast  as  they  have  been  in  the 
habit  of  doing,  and  begin  the  activities  of  the  day. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  they  do  the  same  work 

343 


344  CHILD  TRAINING 

that  they  have  been  doing.  Arithmetic  and  geog- 
raphy of  the  textbooks  are  wearisome  things.  The 
ordinary  course  of  study  is  not  a  warm  weather 
pastime. 

In  the  vacation  schools  they  may  have  a  different 
set  of  occupations.  They  may  study  a  little,  just 
enough  to  keep  them  alert.  They  can  use  their  hands 
in  making  things.  They  can  weave  and  paint  and 
model  the  ideas  that  they  have  gathered  during  the 
school  year.  They  can  read  the  books  that  belong 
to  the  school  interests  or  that  give  them  pleasure 
in  other  fields.  They  can  sing  and  dance  and  play 
in  a  clean  place  under  the  care  and  advice  of  trained 
teachers.  Isn't  that  better  than  turning  them  loose 
on  the  streets  or  permitting  them  to  yawn  and  idle 
and  fritter  away  their  days? 

If  there  is  no  vacation  school  in  your  neighborhood 
perhaps  there  is  an  Excursion  Teacher  who  takes 
children  on  long  trips,  all-day  trips.  She  visits  mu- 
seums and  gardens  or  camps  out  for  week-ends. 

Surely  there  is  some  way  to  keep  the  children  busy 
and  happy  during  their  vacation.  For  a  child, 
''change  of  work  is  play", 


SUMMEE   CAMP 

Are  you  sending  your  children  to  the  summer 
camp  for  the  season?  No  better  plan  was  ever  de- 
vised for  taking  care  of  the  children  while  the  schools 
are  closed. 

No  child  should  be  taken  to  a  hotel  or  to  a  boarding 
place.  The  atmosphere  there  is  hostile  to  them  in 
the  first  place.  Grown  people  do  not  like  to  have 
other  people's  children  about.  No  one  appreciates 
the  good  points  of  your  children  as  you  do.  And 
no  one  is  so  sensitive  to  their  faults  as  you  are  when 
they  are  brought  out  by  the  heartless  critics  of  sum- 
mer hotels  and  boarding  places.  Children  deterio- 
rate rapidly  in  that  sort  of  atmosphere. 

The  scheme  of  these  places  does  not  take  the  chil- 
dren into  consideration.  The  meals  are  planned  for 
the  adults.  It  is  impossible  for  you  to  regulate  the 
diet  of  your  children  in  a  hotel.  If  you  restrict  it 
some  one  else  will  enrich  it. 

In  the  camp  the  meals  are  planned  for  the  chil- 
dren. There  are  no  rich  desserts  and  no  servants 
to  smuggle  goodies  to  the  youngsters.  They  eat 
what  is  placed  before  them  and  think  no  more 
about  it. 

The  amusements  of  the  hotel  and  boarding  houses 
are  set  for  adults.  Children  should  have  no  part 
in  them.  Cards  and  smoking  and  all-day  motoring 
and  fishing  trips  are  not  for  growing  children. 

In  the  camp  the  hikes  and  the  trips  are  planned 

345 


346  CHILD  TRAINING 

for  the  groups.  The  counselor  knows  exactly  how 
much  they  can  stand  and  how  much  is  good  for  them. 

The  manners  and  gossip  of  the  ordinary  summer 
stopping  place  are  poison  to  the  children.  Better 
stay  at  home  in  the  city  than  expose  them  to  the 
stupidities  of  the  veranda. 

Taps  blows  early  in  camp.  The  lights  go  out  and 
the  children  fall  asleep  in  the  clean  silences  of  the 
open.  Their  tents  are  open  to  the  cool,  clear  evening 
sky  and  the  stars  shine  in  upon  them.  The  sounds 
that  float  to  their  sleepy  ears  are  the  whispers  of 
the  night  birds,  the  good-night  croaks  of  Grand- 
father Frog  down  in  the  valley,  the  evening  song  of 
the  sparrow. 

In  the  hotel  they  lie  in  their  close  rooms  tossing 
in  restless  sleep  as  the  dishes  clash,  the  servants  clat- 
ter, and  the  band  smashes  out  its  awful  clamor. 
Here  is  no  rest  for  the  body  or  soul  of  a  child. 

Children  belong  with  the  clean  growing  things: 
the  grass  and  the  flowers  and  the  pine  trees  and  the 
birds.  They  belong  with  the  limitless  things:  the 
stars  and  the  sky  and  the  everlasting  hills. 


PICKING  OUT  THE  CAMP 

How  can  you  tell  the  good  camp  for  your  children? 

Go  and  look  at  it  personally.  Take  nobody  ^s  word 
for  it.  Nothing  can  excuse  your  sending  your  child 
to  a  place  you  have  not  visited.  No  matter  how 
well  you  know  the  man  or  woman  who  is  directing 
the  camp,  go  and  see  for  yourself. 

No  two  people  see  things  the  same  way.  The 
camp  that  looks  like  a  fairyland  for  children  may 
not  seem  at  all  desirable  to  you.  Every  man  thinks 
his  possessions,  his  ideas,  his  way  the  best  in  the 
world.    Karely  will  other  people  agree  with  him. 

The  good  camp  should  be  off  the  main  highway 
and  not  too  far  away  from  it.  You  want  the  sum- 
mer hotel  life  shut  out  and  the  camp  life  shut  in. 
Had  you  wanted  your  children  to  be  in  the  way  of 
the  summering  public  you  could  easily  have  taken 
them  with  you  to  the  hotel  or  boarding  house. 

The  camp  should  be  near  enough  to  the  lake  to 
offer  the  joys  of  swimming  and  boating  and  fishing 
and  dreaming.  Nothing  quite  equals  the  refresh- 
ment of  body  and  mind  that  comes  from  quiet  con- 
templation of  the  blue  waters  of  the  mountain  lake 
cupped  in  the  gracious  hollows  of  the  hills. 

The  children's  quarters  should  be  clean,  roomy, 
and  well  screened.  Be  sure  about  those  screens. 
Mosquito  netting  is  a  poor  and  treacherous  substi- 
tute. Imagine  yourself  trying  to  sleep  exposed  to 
the  onslaughts  of  the  mosquitoes  that  ride  in  on  the 

347 


348  CHILD  TRAINING 

evening  breeze.  Mosquitoes  make  for  infection. 
Look  to  the  screens. 

The  site  has  to  be  well  drained.  The  floors  of  the 
buildings  should  be  well  off  the  ground,  and  the 
slope  should  be  away  from  the  children's  quarters, 
never  toward  it. 

Be  sure  that  the  children  have  ample  sleeping 
room  and  that  they  are  not  huddled  ten  in  a  dor- 
mitory without  privacy.  That  sort  of  thing  is  vul- 
gar. Why  allow  a  condition  in  the  camp  that  you 
would  not  tolerate  in  your  own  home? 

Check  up  these  points  with  the  director : 

Have  the  children  privacy  in  their  sleeping  quar- 
ters? 

Have  they  plenty  of  warm  water  and  soap  for 
baths? 

Are  the  counselors  careful  about  the  physical  in- 
spection of  the  children? 

What  sort  of  sewage  disposal  plant  is  in  opera- 
tion? Take  no  one^s  word  for  this.  Inspect  it  with 
your  glasses  on  and  your  nose  sharpened.  Study 
it  with  relation  to  the  bathing  beach. 

Inquire  about  the  milk  supply.  What  precautions 
are  taken  to  see  that  it  is  perfectly  clean? 

Who  is  the  doctor?  Who  is  the  nurse?  Isolation 
quarters  ? 

Who  is  the  director?  What  are  his  qualifications? 
His  responsibilities  are  heavy.  He  is  taking  over 
the  care  of  your  children. 


GIRLS  TO  CAMP 

The  camp  catalogues  are  out  and  families  are 
deep  in  discussions  as  to  camp,  or  no  camp,  or 
which  camp,  for  the  hoys.  As  usual,  the  hoys  are 
to  the  front.  Boys  can  go  to  camp  because  they  are 
boys.  Girls  cannot  go,  usually,  because  they  are 
girls. 

Parents  make  all  sorts  of  excuses  to  keep  the 
girls  at  home :  * '  It  is  so  far  away ' ' ;  *  ^  Suppose  they 
should  be  sick";  "Girls  ought  to  stay  with  their 
mothers'*;  "My  daughter  and  I  are  such  chums"; 
"We  have  never  been  separated  even  for  a  night 
since  she  was  bom";  "She  never  would  be  con- 
tented  " 

"Athletics  are  dangerous  for  girls";  "I  am 
afraid  she  might  be  drowned  in  the  lake";  "She's 
been  brought  up  in  the  city  and  wouldn't  care  for 
the  country";  "She'd  be  homesick";  "I'd  rather 
have  her  where  I  could  keep  an  eye  on  her. ' ' 

Nevertheless,  the  girl  should  go  to  camp  for  ex- 
actly the  same  reasons  as  the  boys  should  go.  The 
child  who  cannot  leave  his  parents  for  eight  weeks 
to  live  in  the  mountain  camp  with  a  group  of  young- 
sters his  own  age  and  interests  is  a  rare  child. 

Of  course,  girls  love  their  mothers.  So  do  boys. 
When  a  mother  says  that  she  and  her  daughter  are 
inseparable  chums,  I  am  sorry  for  both  of  them.  The 
mother  is  deceiving  herself  and  the  daughter  is  los- 
ing the  growth  and  happiness  that  comes  through 

349 


350  CHILD  TRAINING 

association  with  her  mates.  It  is  selfish  to  keep  a 
girl  home  for  such  a  reason. 

Girls  need  the  growth  that  comes  from  outdoor 
life.  Their  bodies  are  in  greater  need  of  strength- 
ening and  training  than  their  brothers'.  Boys  take 
physical  freedom  for  granted  and  girls  generally 
have  to  have  it  thrust  upon  them. 

Let  the  girls  go.  Let  them  go  to  the  mountains 
and  stretch  their  bodies  and  minds.  Let  them  have 
a  glimpse  of  what  it  means  to  get  close  to  the  earth 
and  know  the  ** mother"  feel  of  it. 

Let  them  get  the  smells  of  the  forest  in  their  nos- 
trils. There  is  nothing  sweeter,  nothing  cleaner, 
nothing  that  will  store  up  finer  memories  than  the 
smell  of  moss  crushed  under  foot,  the  whiff  of  pine 
as  it  brushes  the  cheeks,  the  perfume  of  young  hem- 
lock warming  in  the  sun,  the  bitter-clean  smell  of 
ferns  kneedeep  beside  the  trail,  the  wood  smoke  of 
the  evening  fire  curling  towards  the  stars  as  the 
happily  tired  children  roll  themselves  in  their  blan- 
kets to  sleep  on  the  bed  of  pine  needles  Mother 
Nature  has  been  spreading  for  just  this  occasion 
these  last  hundred  years. 

Don't  you  know  that  Education  is  a  flowering  of 
memories?  The  choicest  of  them  are  to  be  found  in 
the  woods  with  friends  and  youth.  The  summer  in 
a  good  camp  will  repay  its  dollar  cost  a  thousand 
times  by  its  priceless  joy.    Let  the  girl  go  to  camp. 


FIEST  NIGHT  AT  CAMP 

The  boys  readied  camp  about  middle  day.  They 
were  feeling  queer.  Their  legs  were  singing  and 
didn't  seem  to  care  to  leave  off  their  tune  long 
enough  to  carry  on  their  usual  business.  Sleeping 
cars  and  motor  trucks  make  one  feel  like  that. 

They  washed  up  and  got  a  bite  of  lunch.  They 
weren't  very  hungry.  Some  sturdy  ones  wandered 
down  to  the  beach  and  looked  at  the  canoes  lying 
on  their  faces  waiting  for  the  campers  to  turn  them 
over.  To-morrow  would  do  for  that.  A  couple  of 
lazy  looking  tennis  players  walked  about  the  courts. 
But  to-morrow  would  do  for  that,  too. 

Suppertime  came  and  the  campers  ate  a  bite  or 
two,  talking  in  subdued  murmurs.  To-morrow  it 
would  be  impossible  to  distinguish  one's  own  voice 
in  the  general  din,  but  to-night  they  were  tired. 
Besides  the  weariness  was  the  feeling  of  loneliness 
that  steals  over  all  children  at  the  twilight  hour. 
Home  pulls  hardest  then. 

''Taps  will  sound  early,  boys.  No  campfire  gath- 
ering to-night.    Dismiss  to  your  tents." 

The  bugle  sounded  over  the  quiet  hills.  The  last, 
long-drawn-out  note  floated  across  the  lake,  touched 
the  top  of  old  "Peaked",  and  drifted  back  again. 
The  lights  in  the  rows  of  tents  winked  out.  The  first 
night  of  camp  had  settled  over  the  children. 

It  was  Bob's  first  experience  in  camp.  Not  for 
the  world  would  he  have  said  he  was  afraid.  He 
wasn't.    There  wasn't  anything  to  be  afraid  of. 

351 


352  CHILD  TRAINING 

Hark !  What  was  that !  A  crash  against  the  net- 
ting, then  silence.    Bob  was  sitting  bolt  upright. 

* '  That 's  only  a  bat, ' '  said  Teddy.  '  *  Lie  down  and 
don^t  mind  him.  He's  blind  and  can't  see  the  net- 
ting. He  does  that  a  million  times  a  night.  Go  to 
sleep." 

Bob  lay  down  and  tried  to  sleep.  He  closed  his 
eyes,  but  his  ears  were  strained  and  listening.  He 
heard  the  cows  on  the  opposite  shore  of  the  lake.  A 
man  shouted  at  them,  a  dog  barked,  their  bells 
jangled.  Bob  smiled.  He  knew  all  those  sounds. 
They  were  familiar  and  friendly.  He  opened  his 
eyes  to  the  dark  blue  of  the  sky  shining  down  on 
his  tent.  The  stars  twinkled  and  flickering  little 
shadows  from  the  swaying  branches  of  the  trees 
danced  across  the  screen.    His  eyes  closed  sleepily. 

* '  Hoo-hoo-hoo-oo-oo-oo-oo.  Hoooo-oo-oo-oo-oo, ' ' 
sobbed  a  soul  in  sore  distress.  It  came  from  the 
pines  close  by  the  tent.  Bob  sat  up  in  a  sweat  of 
fear. 

''Teddy,  Teddy,  do  you  hear  that?  Isn't  that 
awful?    Some  one's  in  trouble;  what  shall  we  do?" 

"Oh,  go  to  sleep.  Can't  you  shut  up?  That's 
nothing  but  an  old  hoot  owl.  Go  out  and  chase  him 
if  you  want  to,  but  for  goodness'  sake  let  me  sleep. 
Old  Limpy'U  ring  us  up  early,  too.  Anything  you 
hear  is  just  some  bug  or  bird  or  bat  or  something 
and  it  doesn't  mean  anything.    Go  to  sleep." 

And  the  next  thing  he  knew  Teddy  was  pulling 
his  hair  and  the  sun  was  shining  into  the  tent. 


CAMPING  OUT 

''This  summer  I^m  going  to  put  the  boys  out  in 
the  tent  a  good  distance  from  the  house/'  said 
mother.  **It  is  time  they  began  to  learn  to  live  in 
the  open/' 

*' They '11  be  afraid,"  said  Aunt  Louise. 

* '  They  '11  get  over  it, ' '  said  mother,  calmly.  *  *  They 
have  to  begin  some  time,  and  nine  years  is  old 
enough,  I'm  sure." 

The  tent  was  put  up  within  sight  and  hearing  of 
the  house,  but  far  enough  to  create  a  feeling  of  dis- 
tance. The  tent  platform  was  raised  from  the 
ground  and  the  tent  opening  screened. 

Two  cots  and  a  tiny  table  were  all  the  furniture  al- 
lowed. The  lantern  was  hung  from  a  hook  in  the 
ridge  pole,  and  the  clothes  were  supposed  to  be  put 
in  a  bag  and  laid  on  the  table  when  the  boys  took 
them  off  at  night. 

* '  Are  we  going  to  sleep  in  here  ? ' '  asked  the  young- 
sters. 

''I'm  thinking  about  letting  you  sleep  in  here  once 
in  a  while  if  you  are  very  good. ' ' 

''Let's  sleep  here  to-night.    We'll  be  good." 

"I'll  have  to  see  about  it.  Only  real  outdoor  boys 
can  sleep  in  a  tent,  you  know. ' ' 

"We're  outdoor  boys.  We  can  sleep  outdoors. 
Lots  of  the  fellows  sleep  out  all  summer.  Can't  we? 
We  're  just  as  good  sports  as  the  Bums  boys. ' ' 

"You  ought  to  be.  But  suppose  it  rains.  What 
would  you  do?" 

353 


354  CHILD  TRAINING 

*'Aw.  Rain  won't  bother  us.  What  if  it  does 
rain?" 

** Sometimes  it  thunders  and  lightens.'*  The 
younger  lad  was  afraid  of  thunderstorms. 

*  *  Huh, ' '  he  said.  *  *  Lightning  can 't  strike  you  in  a 
tent.  I'm  not  going  to  be  afraid  of  the  thunder  and 
the  lightning  any  more,  anyw^ay. ' ' 

**You  must  remember  that  if  you  sleep  in  a  tent 
you  have  to  take  care  of  it  all  by  yourselves.  You 
will  have  to  make  your  own  beds  and  sweep  the 
floor  and  keep  the  grounds  about  the  tent  in  order. ' ' 

*'We  can  do  that.  Can  we  begin  to-night, 
mother?" 

So,  as  a  great  treat,  the  little  lads  were  allowed 
to  take  possession  of  the  tent.  Mother  had  searched 
the  sky  for  signs  of  thunder.  She  did  not  want  to 
try  the  new  courage  too  severely.  "I  hope  it  will 
be  a  fine  night, ' '  she  said  as  she  watched  the  light  in 
the  tent  go  out. 

The  stars  came  and  the  moonlight  streamed  across 
the  lake.  The  little  boys  could  look  out  and  see  the 
friendly  night  and  hear  the  sounds  from  the  house. 
Soon  they  turned  over  and  were  fast  asleep. 

''Best  to  break  them  in  early  and  easy,"  said 
father,  as  he  and  their  mother  stood  peeking  in  at 
the  sleeping  youngsters.  *  *  If  they  don 't  learn  young 
they  may  not  learn  at  all,  and  I'd  hate  to  have  them 
lose  it." 

**They  won't,"  said  mother,  fastening  a  loose  end 
of  netting.  **They  won't  ever  be  afraid  after  to- 
night." 


EXCUESIONS 

Children  love  to  go  on  little  trips.  Just  the  get- 
ting ready  and  going  out  with  father  and  mother 
is  great  fun.  Have  you  taken  the  children  to  the 
museums?  They  are  wonderful  places  for  the  chil- 
dren and  for  you. 

There  are  many  interesting  things  happening  on 
the  way,  too.  The  children  will  point  them  out  and 
ask  about  them.  You  will  see  that  you  have  passed 
buildings  and  statues  that  you  have  never  noticed. 
The  streets  will  take  on  a  new  interest.  You  can 
teach  and  learn  as  you  go. 

Then  there  is  the  big  building  at  last.  The  uni- 
formed men  standing  about  come  to  tell  you  things 
and  answer  your  questions.  The  children  are  de- 
lighted. Children  love  collections.  They  like  to 
see  rows  of  things,  arrays  of  boxes,  shelves  full  of 
objects  all  labeled  and  waiting  for  inspection. 

They  spy  a  bug  or  a  stone  that  they  have  been 
told  about  in  school.  Instantly  they  call  out,  pull 
you  toward  it  and  tell  you  all  they  know  about  it. 
The  guard  is  interested  and  comes  to  add  his  bit  of 
knowledge.  The  youngsters'  eyes  shine.  It  is  a 
great  day. 

Perhaps  you  go  to  the  Art  Gallery  ?  Pictures  hang 
all  about.  The  walls  are  hidden  under  them.  There 
are  pictures  of  beautiful  women  and  proud  men. 
There  are  pictures  of  soldiers  and  sailors.  There  are 
landscapes  that  make  you  hold  your  breath  at  their 

355 


356  CHILD  TRAINING 

beauty.  Pictures  of  the  sea  that  make  you  long  for 
its  clean,  salt  smell. 

There  are  pictures  of  every  people  in  the  world. 
There  will  be  some  from  the  land  of  your  fore- 
fathers. They  will  stir  memories  that  you  are  de- 
lighted to  have  revived.  You  will  tell  them  to  the 
children,  you  will  pass  on  the  pride  of  your  an- 
cestors to  your  boys  and  girls.  They  will  listen  with 
shining  eyes  and  glowing  cheeks. 

The  children  need  the  best  the  world  has  to  offer. 
That  is  why  we  send  our  agents  to  the  uttermost 
ends  of  the  earth — through  the  dangerous  ice  floes 
of  the  Arctic,  through  the  sweltering  heat  of  the 
jungle,  to  the  tops  of  mountains,  and  the  depths  of 
the  seas.    We  crave  their  treasures  for  the  children. 

Fathers  and  mothers  should  teach  them.  They 
can  give  and  take  at  the  same  time.  They  can 
store  the  children's  minds  with  fine  memories  of 
great  deeds,  great  people,  and  great  art.  Such  teach- 
ing lays  the  foundation  for  rich  manhood  and  wo- 
manhood. 


SUMMEE  DANGERS 

This  is  the  time  of  year  when  drowning  accidents 
are  frequent.  Every  one  is  sure  that  such  a  thing 
could  not  happen  to  him.  That  is  what  an  accident 
is — the  thing  that  couldn't  happen,  and  did. 

The  person  who  rocks  the  boat  is  an  unmitigated 
idiot,  and  should  be  treated  accordingly.  No  matter 
how  safe  he  knows  the  boat  to  be,  no  matter  how 
well  he  can  swim  or  how  well  he  knows  the  shore, 
he  risks  his  life  and  the  lives  of  those  about  him. 
He  is  a  fool  and  should  be  guarded. 

Children  should  never  be  allowed  to  go  into  the 
water  unless  a  life  guard  is  on  duty.  Some  respon- 
sible adult  should  be  on  hand  in  a  boat  to  pick  up 
the  child  that  gets  into  trouble. 

Teach  the  children  that  it  is  dangerous  to  go  out 
on  a  fishing  trip  alone.  Two  children  should  be  the 
party  for  such  a  trip,  and  three  is  better.  And  by 
children  here  we  mean  boys  and  girls  of  sixteen  and 
over.  Younger  children  must  have  an  adult  in 
charge  of  their  trips. 

If  there  is  no  one  to  go  out  with  these  younger 
children,  better  let  them  stay  home.  It  is  better  to 
lose  a  trip  occasionally  than  to  lose  a  life. 

Of  course,  no  child  is  allowed  to  go  out  in  a  canoe 
until  he  has  proved  that  he  can  swim  well,  upset  a 
canoe  and  right  it  again  and  climb  in.  That  is  the 
rule  about  canoeing.  But  the  rule  is  broken  to  the 
sorrow  of  somebody  every  summer. 

357 


358  CHILD  TRAINING 

The  best  canoe  to  have  about  is  the  sort  that  are 
called  non-sinkable.  Then  be  sure  that  it  is  secured 
from  the  clutches  of  the  adventurous  small  boy.  A 
canoe  hauled  up  on  the  beach,  with  paddle  lying  to 
hand,  is  a  strong  invitation  to  trouble. 

Rafts  are  a  source  of  danger.  Boys  love  to  make 
them.  They  take  logs  and  tie  them  fast ;  sometimes 
they  spike  them  together.  When  no  one  is  looking 
they  launch  their  tipsy  craft,  drift  about  for  a  while, 
and  all  of  a  sudden  upset  themselves  and  slide  into 
the  water. 

Sometimes  the  raft  parts  in  the  middle  when  the 
party  is  in  midstream.  The  good  swimmers  and 
cool-headed  ones  escape  with  their  lives.  The  others 
don't. 

The  best  place  for  a  raft  is  the  woodpile.  If  there 
must  be  one,  anchor  it  sure  and  hard.  Even  then  it 
is  not  safe,  because  it  breaks  loose  and  drifts  off. 

Try  to  teach  the  children  that  it  is  neither  bright 
nor  brave  to  risk  their  lives  and  the  life  of  the  one 
who  must  try  to  rescue  them,  needlessly.  Only  a 
fool  does  that.  Teach  them  that  life  is  not  theirs. 
Trifling  with  death  is  the  cheap  gesture  of  the 
ignorant. 


THE  PLAY 

*  *  Oh,  mother,  I  want  something  to  do.  Staying  in 
the  country  with  nothing  to  do  isn't  any  fun,"  com- 
plained Lillian.  "Can't  you  tell  us  something  to 
do?" 

**I  should  think  it  would  be  fun  to  have  a  play," 
said  her  mother.  "You  and  the  children  about  here 
might  have  a  fairy  play." 

"There  wouldn't  be  any  stage  or  costumes,"  said 
Lillian. 

*  *  Outdoors  would  be  the  best  stage,  and  costumes 
are  not  so  hard  if  you  use  your  head  a  little.  Some 
flowers  and  twigs  and  fancy  paper,  and  you  have  a 
fairy." 

"How'UIbegin?" 

"Go  outdoors  and  study  the  rocks  and  trees  and 
flowers,  and  see  if  they  suggest  a  story.  You  know 
you  could  piece  a  story  together  if  the  one  you 
thought  of  wouldn't  quite  fit." 

Lillian  went  out  thoughtfully.  There  was  a  hill 
sloping  down  to  the  lake.  There  were  rocks  fringed 
with  vines  and  set  about  with  ferns.  Dotted  about 
were  clumps  of  ground  hemlock  and  juniper.  In  the 
background  stood  the  forest  of  pines  and  birches. 
But  fairies? 

"Fairies,  fairies.  Don't  see  a  thing  that  says 
fairies.  Eocks  and  trees  and  water.  Oh,  maybe  it 
could  be  a  water  fairy.  I'll  ask  the  girls  if  they 
know  anything  about  water  fairies." 

359 


360  CHILD  TRAINING 

Soon  the  little  group  was  chatting  under  the  pine 
trees. 

** Don't  you  think  we  could  play  the  water  spirit! 
Old  Charlie  says  there  is  a  water  spirit  that  lives  in 
the  lake.  He  says  she  comes  out  every  moonlight 
night  and  all  the  fairies  that  live  in  the  brooks  and 
springs  come  down  and  dance  on  the  beach.  He 
says  he  sees  them  often. 

''See.  Little  brown  fairies  could  come  out  of  the 
ground  in  that  clump  of  cedar.  And  we  could  have 
little  green  fairies  coming  out  of  the  spring  on  the 
hill  and  more  could  come  out  of  the  juniper  bush." 

**And  they  could  all  dance  down  to  the  sandy 
beach. ' ' 

*'And  we  could  borrow  the  hotel  music." 

''And  we  could  get  the  man  to  light  up  the  hill 
and  the  beach  with  colored  lanterns." 

"And  we  could  have  a  big  group  picture  of  all 
the  dancing  fairies  and  the  water  spirit.  A  pag- 
eant." 

Everybody  talked  at  once.  Then  they  raced  off 
to  their  mothers  and  begged  for  help.  The  cottagers 
and  the  hotel  guests  and  the  "natives"  joined  in  the 
fun,  and  held  a  great  water  carnival  with  lights  and 
fairies  and  music. 

There  is  always  a  way  out.  Keep  the  children 
busy — ^with  something  worth  while. 


THE  STRAY  CIRCUS 

Silence  hung  over  our  hillside.  Great,  soft  billows 
of  cloud  floated  about  the  sky  and  cast  deep  shadows 
over  the  mountains  that  march  along  the  horizon 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake. 

Sometimes  old  Peaked  Hill  seemed  very  near.  He 
seemed  to  be  drawing  close  to  us  at  last.  He  had 
drawn  a  scarf  of  gray-blue  cloud  about  his  shoul- 
ders and  cuddled  a  scrap  of  a  white  one  in  his  lap, 
and  he  loomed  across  at  us  until  we  could  see  the 
ecars  on  his  stern  old  face  and  glimpse  the  tasselled 
pines  that  made  his  mantle. 

But  a  breath  from  the  Blue  Ridge  sent  the  clouds 
scuttling  off,  and  the  dour  old  mountain  settled  back 
in  space  further  away  and  more  inscrutable  than 
ever. 

I  rolled  over  on  my  rug  and  with  a  bit  of  dry 
grass  tickled  the  ears  of  the  boy  who  lives  in  the 
house.  He  grunted  and  rubbed  his  ears,  but  did 
not  turn  over.  It  was  the  laziest,  stillest  of  after- 
noons. 

Suddenly  came  a  shower  of  sharp  barks,  yelps,  a 
jangle  of  bells  and  harness,  laughter  and  singing, 
and  gay  voices.  The  click  of  horses*  feet  on  the  new 
State  road. 

The  boy  sat  up  as  if  electrified.  * '  The  circus ! "  he 
shouted,  and  was  off  and  away  before  I  could  think. 
His  feet  whirled  out  of  the  gate  as  I  watched,  and 
his  red  sweater  was  lost  in  the  distance. 

361 


362  CHILD  TRAINING 

Along  about  teatime  he  came  home.  He  was  dirt- 
ier than  usnal.  He  had  a  fresh  rip  in  the  tattered 
sweater.  One  leg  of  his  overalls  flapped  openly  and 
his  blouse  was  scarcely  distinguishable. 

He  beamed  upon  us.    * '  Some  time,  I  've  had. ' ' 

"So  glad,  I'm  sure,*'  said  his  mother,  who  had  an 
idea  that  she  might  have  been  consulted  about  the 
expedition. 

''Yes,  great.  And  I'm  going  to-morrow.  That  is, 
if  I  may "  catchuig  the  look  in  his  mother's  eye. 

"There's  a  boy  with  them.  He  can  do  every- 
thing. He  can  walk  on  a  wire.  No  matter  how 
high  it  is  he  can  w^alk  on  it.  And  he  can  ride  a 
horse,  sitting  or  standing  or  lying  down." 

"And  falling  off,"  I  suggested. 

"Yes,"  he  chuckled;  "it  was  me  that  fell  off. 
You  ought  to  see  me.  Some  of  the  things  he  could 
do  I  could  do,  but  most  of  them  I  couldn't.  I  could 
walk  on  the  wire  if  he  held  my  hand,  but  when  he  let 
go  I  fell  off." 

"My  goodness!"  gasped  his  mother. 

' '  Didn  't  hurt  me, ' '  he  hurried  on.  * '  When  I  grow 
up  I'm  going  to  be  a  circus  man.  Can  I  take  the 
boy  some  berries  and  some  cakes?  I'U  give  him 
mine." 

He  wheedled  a  basket  of  goodies  from  his  mother 
and  went  down  the  hill,  tattered  and  dirty,  just  as 
he  was.  For  days  and  days  after,  the  boy  looked 
up  and  down  the  road  and  listened  for  the  noise  that 
meant  circus.  But  they  only  come  down  your  road 
once  in  a  lifetime. 


I 


THE  ORGAN  MAN 

It  was  a  warm,  wet  day  in  the  mountains.  The 
guests  of  the  quiet  hotel  far  back  in  the  hill  were 
closed  in.  The  children  were  shut  in  too.  They 
perched  on  the  edges  of  chairs  or  sat  about  on  the 
floor  and  got  in  the  way  regularly.  Everybody  was 
cross. 

Now  and  again  somebody  would  try  to  lift  the 
gloom  by  playing  a  lively  tune  on  the  piano.  Some- 
body would  try  a  song.  But  they  always  succumbed 
to  the  damp  atmosphere.  Their  eyes  would  travel 
off  to  the  hills  still  shrouded  in  veils  of  gray  mist. 

*'A  wet  day  in  the  city  is  bad  enough.  Up  here  it 
is  unbearable, ' '  said  a  lady  taking  desperate  stitches 
in  her  embroidery.  ''The  children  are  all  we  can 
stand  when  they  are  out  of  doors.  Closed  in  like 
this  they  are  impossible.  If  it  doesn't  clear  off  to- 
night, I'm  going  home." 

A  quiet  old  gentleman,  who  had  made  no  protest 
about  the  weather,  but  sat  contentedly  reading  by 
the  window,  rose  and  left  the  room.  When  he  re- 
turned he  said :  * '  Get  your  hats,  children,  and  come 
down  to  the  barn,  I've  got  something  to  show  you." 

There  was  a  mad  scramble  of  feet,  rugs  flew,  and 
doors  slammed.  The  children  trooped  after  the 
old  gentleman.  In  the  doorway  of  the  empty  hay 
barn  stood  an  organ  grinder  and  a  monkey. 

The  monkey  chattered  and  bowed  and  danced  with 
delight  at  the  sight  of  the  children,  and  the  grinder 

363 


364  CHILD  TEAINING 

struck  up  his  liveliest  tune.  Such  fun !  They  danced 
and  shouted  and  sang,  and  the  monkey  played  as 
hard  as  the  rest. 

The  sounds  of  revelry  reached  the  shut-ins  in  the 
living  room.  One  by  one  they  ventured  down  to  see 
what  was  going  on  and  stayed  to  dance.  They  caught 
hands  and  danced  *'King  Around  a-Rosy"  and 
"East  Side,  West  Side"  as  though  their  lives  de- 
pended upon  it. 

The  indefatigable  grinder  turned  and  turned,  and 
the  children  and  the  grown-ups  never  said 
*' Enough. »' 

The  dinner  bell,  that  oasis  in  a  weary  day,  rang, 
and  nobody  heeded  it.  The  smiling  host  had  to  go 
to  the  bam  and  invite  his  guests  to  come  to  dinner. 

''Please  stay  to  dinner,"  they  begged  the  organ 
grinder. 

*' And  please  let  the  monkey  stay  too,"  begged  the 
children. 

The  man  bowed  and  smiled  and  the  monkey  tipped 
his  hat  and  said  as  plainly  as  a  monkey  could  speak, 
*' Thank  youj  I'd  be  pleased  to  do  so." 


MIDSUMMER 

Country  children  know  all  about  the  riches  of  mid- 
summer. They  begin  to  reap  them  when  the  wild 
strawberries  hang  like  crimson  jewels  on  a  lady*s 
headdress,  and  send  out  fragrance  that  tempts  boy 
and  bee  alike. 

Did  you  ever  gather  wild  strawberries  on  the  west 
slope  of  a  pasture?  Ever  stoop  to  gather  a  cluster 
of  them  in  the  tall  grass  and  daisies,  and  feel  the 
soft  wind  on  your  face  and  through  your  hair? 

Eemember  raspberry  time  ?  First  came  a  spell  of 
warm  weather.  Then  rains,  gentle,  steady,  silvery 
rains  that  hung  jeweled  chains  on  all  the  grasses 
and  flowers  in  the  meadow.  The  robins  whistled 
and  the  warbler  made  music  that  rippled  over  the 
valley  and  made  you  lay  aside  your  book  and  wonder 
if  the  raspberries  along  the  old  mill  road  weren't 
ready  for  gathering. 

Next  morning  you  took  your  lunch  and  a  tin  pail 
and  started  out.  The  sky  was  so  blue  that  all  the 
little  ponds  looked  like  huge  forget-me-not  gardens. 
The  world  was  teeming  with  flowers — daisies  and 
black-eyed-susans  and  chickory  and  mulleins  lined 
the  old  fence  lines.  The  road  borders  were  tangles 
of  beauty.  Why  can't  one  make  a  border  that  looks 
like  a  road  border? 

Cat  briar  and  elderberry,  white  and  orange 
daisies,  clover  and  vetch,  and  tangles  of  wild  roses. 
The  smell  of  it,  the  beauty  of  it,  rose  to  you  as  you 

365 


366  CHILD  TRAINING 

pushed  your  way  among  them  to  the  brambles  load- 
ed with  the  red  fruit. 

Eemember  the  smell  of  the  ripe  berries  with  the 
sunshine  on  them?  Will  you  ever  forget  the  bees 
that  disputed  with  you  for  the  possession  of  the 
ripest  and  best?  The  smell,  the  sweetness,  the  color 
of  raspberry  time. 

Summer  hurried  along,  and  the  last  of  the  fruit 
of  its  sunshiny  days  was  still  to  be  gathered.  It  was 
blackberry  time.  One  must  have  blackberry  pie  and 
blackberry  pudding.  You  took  your  pail  and  started 
out. 

The  berries  love  to  grow  in  out-of-the-way  cor- 
ners. They  have  thorns  that  pierce  and  tear.  Never 
mind.  There  are  berries  beside  the  thorns.  Re- 
member how  you  found  the  bush  of  beauties  grow- 
ing along  the  rail  fence  in  old  man  Brown's  woodlot? 
You  were  picking  for  dear  life,  for  the  sun  was 
bending  over  the  hill. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  fence,  just  out  of  your 
reach,  grew  a  beautiful  clump.  You  reached  for  it. 
Too  far.  You  pressed  against  the  brambles  and 
struggled  nearer. 

You  clutched  the  spray  and  the  nose  of  the  little 
brown  bear  that  had  come  down  the  hill  for  his 
evening  meal  of  berries.  You  screamed  so  loud  that 
they  heard  you  down  at  the  farmhouse  and  ran  out 
to  see  what  had  happened  to  you. 

And  you  threw  the  pail  so  high  and  so  far  that 
you  never  found  it  again.  And  you  ran  down  the 
hill  and  the  little  brown  bear  ran  up  the  hiU,  and 
you  had  to  go  and  tell  and  be  laughed  at. 

These  are  the  memories  that  make  childhood  glori- 
ous and  old  age  golden.  Don't  let  the  children  miss 
them. 


PAKT  VIII 
PARENTS 


THE   BOYS 

The  boys.  Faces  that  a  moment  ago  were  care- 
lined  and  weary  light  up  at  the  sight  of  those  words. 
Smiles  shine  through  the  wrinkles  at  the  thoughts 
those  words  call  up.    ^  *  The  Boys ' '. 

All  the  joyous  mischief  is  done  by  the  boys.  Little 
girls  are  always  ''good".  The  naughty  things  are 
always  done  by  the  boys.  All  the  funny  pranks  and 
joyous  stunts  are  done  by  the  boys. 

And  life  is  so  much  the  more  cheerful. 

All  the  little  services  that  look  so  small  and  are 
really  so  great  are  done  by  the  boys.  A  boy  brings 
the  milk  in  the  morning.  A  boy  delivers  the  papers. 
A  boy  delivers  the  bread.  It  is  a  boy  who  dehvers 
the  telegrams.  It  is  a  boy  who  rushes  off  on  his 
wheel  for  the  doctor.  Boys  are  the  hands  and  feet 
of  the  family. 

And  life  is  so  much  the  more  comfortable. 

All  our  faith  and  hope  and  courage  are  bound 
up  in  the  boys.  All  the  things  we  dreamed  of  doing 
and  could  not  do,  these  the  boys  shall  do.  We  will 
help  them  to  the  doing.  The  ideals  we  have  held 
and  struggle  so  weakly,  so  blindly,  to  fulfill,  they 
shall  fulfill.  They  shall  have  all  our  strength,  our 
experience,  our  money  to  help  them. 

And  life  is  so  much  the  richer. 

The  hope  of  the  race  is  in  the  boys.  They  carry 
on  the  family.  They  carry  on  our  ideals.  They 
carry  on  our  best  traditions.    It  is  the  boys  who 

869 


370  CHILD  TRAINING 

experiment.  It  is  the  boys  who  are  carrying  the 
stodgy  old  world  forward  on  their  young  shoulders. 
Theirs  is  the  quest. 

And  life  is  so  much  the  more  meaningful. 

Does  your  boy  know  that  you  care  the  least  bit 
about  him?  Does  he  know  that  it  is  for  him  that  you 
plan  and  work  and  sacrifice?  That  he  holds  about 
all  that  is  dear  in  life  for  you  under  his  little  jacket? 

So  many  times  we  are  quick  to  scold  and  so  slow 
to  praise.  The  words  of  reproof  come  so  easily,  but 
the  words  of  commendation  and  love  stick  in  our 
throats. 

This  is  Boys'  Week.  Make  it  so  in  your  house. 
Take  your  boy  to  some  place  he  has  been  longing 
to  see.  Give  him  a  treat.  Give  him  a  dinner  party 
and  invite  his  best  friend,  even  if  you  don't  like  him. 
Set  the  table  as  though  you  expected  the  President. 

Let  him  hear  in  your  voice  and  see  in  your  eye 
the  full  pride  in  your  heart  as  you  say,  "This  is  my 
son." 


AEE  THEY  SUEE  OF  YOU? 

Are  the  children  sure  of  you  ? 

I  ask  because  to-day  Jean  Marie  and  Genevieve 
fell  on  their  way  to  school.  They  were  running  a 
race  and  the  road  men  had  just  oiled  the  road.  Of 
course,  it  was  the  gooiest  place  of  all  they  selected. 
They  dripped  into  Miss  Jennie  to  "show  her". 

**My,  my!"  said  Miss  Jennie,  as  she  scraped  and 
rubbed  and  scraped  again.  * '  What  will  your  mother 
say,  Jean  Marie  T' 

"She'll  say,  *You  poor  thing.  How  did  you  get 
that  way?'  "  giggled  Jean  Marie. 

"And  what  will  your  mother  say,  Genevieve?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"  No  smile  lighted  the  cloud- 
ed face.  "Maybe  she'll  be  nice  about  it  and  maybe 
she'll  be  mad  and  slap  me.  Just  depends."  And 
the  small  body  sighed  dolefully. 

It  must  be  fine  to  have  a  mother  like  Jean  Marie 's. 
One's  mind  can  be  at  rest  at  least.  One  can  count 
upon  what  one  has  to  face.  How  about  the  poor 
little  Genevieves? 

There  are  some  folks  whom  the  children  trust  the 
minute  they  meet  them.  They  are  sure  of  them. 
Blessed  be  all  such  people  I 

A  new  teacher  came  to  our  school.  He  was  stand- 
ing in  the  corridor  that  led  to  the  assembly  hall 
when  a  wee  lad  wandered  down  the  passage  just  as 
the  high  school  class  was  about  to  enter  it.  The  tall 
teacher  bent  down  to  whisper  to  him  and  take  him 

371 


372  CHILD  TRAINING 

in  the  right  direction.  The  little  fellow  looked  up  at 
him  and,  misinterpreting  his  gesture,  thought  that 
he  had  stooped  to  kiss  him  and  raised  his  face  for 
the  Mss. 

The  teacher  kissed  him  and  led  him  away.  The 
high  school  class  smiled,  as  though  well  pleased. 
They  had  placed  the  new  teacher.  He  could  be 
counted  upon. 

But  there  are  some  folk  the  children  can  never 
count  on.  Sometimes  they  smile,  sometimes  they 
frown,  sometimes  they  even  slap  people.  **  Just  de- 
pends." 

Now,  what  way  is  that  to  be?  Children  are  so 
dependent  upon  those  about  them.  Children  have  so 
many  difficulties.  They  need  so  much  help,  and  un- 
derstanding, and  sympathy.  Most  of  all,  they  need 
the  feeling  of  security  towards  those  about  them. 

Let's  try  to  do  better  by  them.  Let's  try  to  let 
them  know  that  we  love  them  and  want  to  serve 
them.  Let's  make  them  feel  secure  by  practicing 
day  by  day  a  never  failing  loving  kindness  and  a 
Job-like  patience. 


DIVIDED  ALLEGIANCE 

A  child  grows  along  in  a  certain  pleasant  rhythm 
when  the  conditions  for  growing  are  right.  Any- 
thing that  throws  him  out  of  this  rhythm  shocks 
and  hinders  his  growth.  Seemingly  trifling  things 
will  do  this,  and  the  results  are  far-reaching,  for 
childhood's  impressions  go  deep. 

Every  child  has  to  adjust  himself  to  his  parents, 
each  of  whom  has  particular  ideas  on  child  training. 
Unless  these  can  be  blended  into  a  harmonious  pol- 
icy there  is  trouble  ahead  for  everybody,  especially 
for  the  child. 

The  mother  is  generally  responsible  for  the  up- 
bringing of  the  children,  but  unless  the  father  is 
taken  into  consideration  also,  discord  is  bound  to 
enter.  The  mother,  left  alone  with  the  children 
throughout  the  day,  grows  into  the  habit  of  feeling 
responsible  for  what  they  do,  and  forgets  that  their 
father  might,  by  the  very  fact  of  his  absence  from 
them,  have  a  fresher  viewpoint  and  a  clearer  vision. 

It  sometimes  happens,  when  the  father  speaks  to 
one  of  the  children,  calling  him  to  order,  that  the 
mother,  in  her  anxiety  to  have  the  child  she  feels 
responsible  for  in  the  right,  loses  her  head  and  flies 
to  his  defense,  putting  the  father  in  the  wrong  in 
the  eyes  of  the  youngster. 

The  rhythmic  growth  of  the  child's  mind  is  broken. 
He  no  longer  feels  that  he  is  sure  of  either  parent. 
If  he  is  a  sensitive,  lo^dng  child,  he  suffers  in  the 

373 


374  CHILD  TRAINING 

thought  that  he  is  hurting  one  or  the  other  of  the 
people  he  loves  best. 

If  he  is  a  calculating,  ''practical "-minded  one,  he 
plays  off  one  parent  against  the  other  and  runs  loose 
—''Mother  told  me  I  could."  "Well,  father  doesn't 
mind.  He  said  so. ' '  Finally  he  does  something  that 
brings  the  wrath  of  either  or  both  parents  down 
upon  him  and  there  is  a  scene. 

No  father  worth  the  name  wants  to  feel  that  he 
has  no  place  in  the  lives  of  his  children,  no  concern 
in  their  well-being.  No  mother  willingly  or  know- 
ingly does  what  may  injure  her  children.  Yet  over 
and  over  one  sees  the  results  of  the  family  divided 
against  itself. 

Get  together  for  the  sake  of  the  children!  They 
must  not  be  torn  between  two  struggling  combat- 
ants. Find  some  common  basis  of  agreement  and 
work  on  from  that.  The  things  that  really  matter 
in  a  child's  upbringing  are  few  and  simple.  Strip 
the  question  of  all  the  superfluous  externals  and  get 
down  to  realities. 

The  creed  does  not  matter  if  the  child  is  taught  to 
be  honest  towards  himself  and  his  neighbor.  The 
style  or  manner  does  not  matter  if  the  child  is 
taught  that  cleanliness  of  body  and  mind,  coupled 
with  due  consideration  for  the  rights  and  feelings 
of  others,  are  the  test  of  good  breeding. 

Agree  on  the  fundamentals  and  train  yourself  to 
be  blind  and  deaf  to  the  little  things  that  are  not 
vital.  There  must  be  one  mind  in  the  family  if  the 
children  are  to  thrive. 


LAZY  PARENTS 

Again  and  again  troubled  parents  come  to  the 
scliool  and  say:  *'I  don't  know  what  to  do  with  my 
child.  He  will  not  do  anything  I  want  him  to  do. 
Tell  me  what  I  can  do  with  him.  Make  him  obey 
me." 

This  happens  wherever  there  are  children  and 
parents  and  schoolmasters.  Always  the  appeal: 
*'Tell  me  what  I  can  do  to  help  this  child.  Teach 
me  what  I  can  do  for  him." 

To  their  minds  something  is  always  wrong  with 
the  child.  It  rarely  occurs  to  them  to  think  some- 
thing might  be  wrong  with  themselves.  Yet  that  is 
generally  where  the  real  trouble  lies. 

Every  normal  child  can  be  trained  to  be  orderly, 
punctual,  obedient,  cheerful,  willihg,  and  industri- 
ous. The  difficulty  with  the  uncontrollable  child  is 
the  sad  fact  that  his  parents  have  been  too  lazy  or 
too  indifferent  to  take  the  trouble  to  train  him. 

They  soon  learned  that  if  they  wanted  their  child 
to  rise  early,  bathe  himself,  and  start  about  the  work 
of  the  day  they  would  have  to  rise  earlier  than  he 
and  work  faster,  in  order  to  see  that  he  did  what 
they  wanted  him  to  do.  That  was  altogether  too 
much  trouble.  It  was  more  comfortable  to  lie  in  bed 
some  mornings,  and  they  did  so,  and  so  did  the 
child. 

When  they  told  the  child  that  he  was  to  have  cer- 
tain things  to  eat  for  his  breakfast  it  may  have  been 

375 


376  CHILD  TRAINING 

necessary  for  the  parents  to  be  at  the  table  and  see 
that  those  foods  were  placed  before  him  properly 
cooked  and  attractively  served.  That  may  have 
been  very  inconvenient.  If  so,  the  youngster  did 
not  get  that  sort  of  breakfast. 

It  is  rather  hard  to  expect  a  child  to  eat  boiled 
cereal  when  he  sees  his  parents  eating  the  sweet, 
already  prepared  foods  that  the  obliging  grocer  pro- 
vides. Example  always  has  been  the  best  teacher. 
If  you  have  to  eat  food  that  is  not  good  for  the  chil- 
dren, better  have  them  served  at  a  separate  table. 

The  hopeless  parent  is  the  sort  who  tells  the  child 
in  the  house  he  must  go  to  bed  regularly  at  his  bed- 
time hour.  Then  he  proceeds  to  sit  up  late  to  finish 
a  card  game  and  cannot  rise  on  time  for  breakfast 
the  next  morning. 

'  *  Children  should  go  regularly  to  church  and  Sun- 
day school,"  the  head  of  the  house  announces  sen- 
tentiously.  Then  he  unfolds  the  Sunday  newspaper 
and  remains  buried  in  its  folds  until  dinner  is  an- 
nounced. 

The  child  decides  that  nobody  in  the  family  means 
what  he  says,  so  takes  the  law  into  his  own  hands. 
What  is  to  be  done?  I  don't  know.  If  you  want  a 
well-disciplined,  well-trained,  clear-thinking  child, 
you  will  have  to  be  that  sort  of  person  yourself. 
You,  too,  will  have  to  follow  the  well-ordered  routine 
of  the  day. 

You  do  not  like  that!  Neither  does  the  child. 
But  if  you  cannot  manage  yourself,  how  can  you 
ever  manage  a  child? 


ARE  YOU  REALLY  MAKING  A 
HOME  FOR  THEM^ 

Often  the  children  have  nothing  to  do,  and  no- 
where to  go.  They  sit  in  the  house  and  whine  and 
annoy  the  family.  Mother  tells  them  to  go  some- 
where and  do  something.  She  doesn't  know  where 
or  what. 

Now  if  a  child  had  a  room  or  a  box  or  a  closet 
where  he  could  keep  his  treasures,  where  he  could 
lock  them  up,  he  would  always  have  some  place  to  go 
and  something  to  do. 

A  child  delights  in  being  busy.  He  loves  to  have 
something  that  is  his  own.  He  likes  to  take  it  out 
of  its  place,  look  it  over,  and  then  lock  it  up  safely. 
All  this  is  good  training  for  him.  He  is  gaining  a 
sense  of  responsibility  and  independence. 

Some  of  the  things  he  stores  away  will  seem  rub- 
bishy to  you  if  you  have  forgotten  your  childhood. 
A  handful  of  pretty  stones,  a  collection  of  bits  of 
colored  glass,  chips  of  gorgeous  crockery,  a  feather 
from  the  rooster's  tail,  a  fishhook,  a  button,  a  string, 
scraps  of  paper,  bits  of  rags.  Whatever  it  is,  let  it 
alone.  The  child  treasures  it,  and  that  is  enough. 
While  he  has  interests,  he  is  growing.  If  you  teach 
liim  that  you  are  interested  in  what  interests  him, 
he  will  be  a  home-loving  child.  He  will  cling  to  his 
home  and  the  people  in  it. 

The  woman  who  boasted  of  the  cleanest  house  in 
the  village  had  three  children.     They  never  went 

377 


378  CHILD  TRAINING 

home  Tinless  they  were  obliged  to.  The  house  was 
so  neat  that  it  hurt  you.  No  balls  ever  rolled 
across  those  floors.  No  limp  dolls  ever  hung  from 
the  prim  chairs.    Children  had  no  place  there. 

Her  neighbor  went  to  the  other  extreme.  The 
children  lived  all  over  the  house.  One  was  con- 
stantly pushing  their  playthings  aside  in  order  to 
get  about  at  all.  A  visitor  was  likely  to  sit  down 
on  a  group  of  tin  soldiers  or  step  on  a  stuffed  bunny. 
Somebody  was  always  cross  in  that  house.  Children 
do  not  like  disorder  any  more  than  they  do  over- 
done neatness.  All  they  ask  is  a  little  comer  to 
themselves.    They  like  that. 

Then  give  the  children  a  chance  to  live  with  the 
things  they  like.  They  will  keep  interested  and 
happy  and  home-loving.  We  need  home-loving  peo- 
ple.   America  is  made  of  such  folk. 

During  the  Great  War  a  soldier  out  on  the  front 
said,  "They  tell  me  that  I  am  fighting  for  democracy. 
I  believe  them.  But  one  thing  I  am  dead  sure  of — 
I'm  fighting  for  a  frame  house  and  all  that's  in  it 
out  in  Omaha." 


SAY  **YES"  AS  OFTEN  AS 
POSSIBLE 

Children  are  entitled  to  a  happy  childhood.  Joy 
is  to  the  child  what  air  and  sun  and  rain  are  to  the 
plants.  Flood  the  children  with  joy  and  they  grow 
and  blossom  richly;  deprive  them  of  it  and  they 
droop  and  wither  away. 

Say  ''Yes"  as  often  as  possible  to  a  child.  If 
you  have  trained  him  at  all  well  he  will  not  make 
many  unwise  demands. 

Make  his  birthday  a  great  day.  That  is  the  day 
to  visit  his  grandmother  and  grandfather  if  it  is 
possible.  Give  him  some  special  treat.  In  the 
evening  come  the  party  and  the  cake  with  the  cau- 
dles. 

Valentine's  Day  was  really  intended  for  the  joy 
of  children.  The  good  old  priest  St.  Valentine  made 
it  a  day  of  sweet  remembrance  of  them.  Don't  for- 
get to  make  the  tiny  heart-shaped  cakes  with  the 
pink  icing  for  tea  that  night. 

Easter  is  the  child's  day.  The  bunny,  the  colored 
eggs,  the  new  suit,  the  beautiful  lilies,  lend  it  a 
beauty  that  stands  high  above  the  others.  On  that 
day,  at  least,  he  should  go  to  church  and  have  the 
memory  of  the  music  and  the  flowers  and  the  beauti- 
ful service  to  add  to  the  others. 

Hallowe'en  must  have  its  party.  This  is  the  night 
for  the  Jack  o'  Lantern,  the  apples  and  nuts,  and 

379 


380  CHILD  TRAINING 

the  tricks.  It  is  the  night  of  the  fairies.  We  all 
believe  in  fairies  that  evening. 

Thanksgiving  is  a  day  full  of  happiness.  The 
grandmothers,  the  cousins,  and  uncles  and  aunts. 
The  turkeys,  the  pies,  and  th6  games.  Little  hearts 
almost  burst  their  jackets  with  joy. 

Christmas.  The  tree,  the  stockings.  The  wonder- 
ful surprises.  The  bells  and  the  noise  and  horns  and 
the  toys.  Cram  it  full  to  the  last  mad  hour  of  the 
short  daylight.  It  becomes  a  memory  of  home  and 
family  that  will  last  while  life  lasts.  No  trouble  is 
too  much  for  that. 

Childhood  is  the  time  for  storing  up  joy.  The 
least  we  can  do  for  the  children  is  to  give  them  a 
happy  childhood.  Fill  it  full  of  happy  memories. 
Fix  the  fine  family  traditions  upon  it.  Make  each 
family  anniversary,  each  child  holiday,  a  golden 
memory.  When  he  is  old  and  life  holds  nothing  but 
the  memories  of  the  days  that  have  hurried  on  and 
left  him  waiting  for  the  long  night,  he  will  bring  out 
these  treasures  of  his  happy  childhood.  So  shall  his 
joys  be  doubled. 


HOW  DO  YOU  TALK  TO  YOUR 
CHILDREN? 

How  do  you  talk  to  your  children?  Do  you  shout 
impatiently  at  them  if  they  do  not  fly  the  minute  you 
speak  to  them? 

That  is  not  good  for  the  children.  It  teaches  them 
bad  manners.  What  is  worse,  it  teaches  them  dis- 
obedience, the  very  thing  you  are  protesting  about. 

If  a  child  learns  that  you  will  raise  your  voice  he 
will  wait  for  you  to  raise  it  before  he  obeys.  As 
long  as  you  speak  in  ordinary  tones  he  thinks  you 
do  not  mean  it,  because  you  have  accustomed  him  to 
that  idea.  He  will  wait  until  he  thinks  you  mean  it. 
He  measures  this  by  the  strength  of  your  voice. 

One  must  begin  to  teach  him  to  obey  when  he  is 
very  little.  Speak  gently  to  him  over  and  over  until 
he  does  what  you  want.  When  he  obeys  promptly 
give  him  some  special  reward.  Let  him  play  with 
some  favorite  toy.  Associate  his  obedience  with 
happiness. 

That  would  take  too  long,  you  think.  It  would 
take  time.  But  you  are  raising  a  man.  That  takes 
about  thirty  years.    You  cannot  hurry  that  process. 

There  is  a  story  about  Mrs.  Wesley.  I  hope  it  is 
true.    If  it  isn't  it  ought  to  be. 

One  day  Mrs.  Wesley  had  a  visitor.  The  ladies 
chatted  while  little  John  played  about  on  the  floor. 
John  pulled  the  cat's  tail. 

''Let  the  cat  out,  son." 

381 


382  CHILD  TRAINING 

Son  did  not  seera  to  hear. 

"Let  the  cat  out,  son." 

Son  paid  no  attention.  Thirty-five  times  Mrs. 
Wesley  repeated  the  direction  to  her  little  son  before 
he  obeyed. 

"Why  did  you  tell  the  child  over  and  over  again 
for  thirty-five  times!"  asked  the  visitor. 

"Because,"  said  Mrs.  Wesley,  "thirty-four 
wasn't  enough." 

Mrs.  Wesley  gave  two  great  men  to  the  world. 
But  it  took  the  thirty-five  times.    It  was  worth  it. 

Be  patient,  keep  at  it.  You  are  raising  a  man  or 
a  woman.  There  is  no  greater  work  than  that  in 
all  the  labors  of  mankind. 


"MY  MOTHER  CAN" 

Charlotte  burst  into  the  house  at  noontime, 

**0h,  mother,  what  do  you  think?" 

''Softly,  child.    Don't  be  so  excited.    What  is  it?" 

**What  do  you  think  happened  at  school  to-day? 
You'll  never  guess." 

''  Tell  me.    Then  I  '11  know. ' ' 

**This  morning  Belle's  mother  came  to  school  and 
sang  for  the  assembly.  It  was  beautiful.  Lots  nicer 
than  she  sings  at  home.   I  've  heard  her  lots  of  times. 

**And  she  was  all  dressed  up.  She  looked  like  a 
picture.  She  sang  'When  Mother  Takes  the  Fairy 
Book'  and  'When  My  Mother  Sings  to  Me'.  Oh,  it 
was  grand!    We  clapped  and  clapped. 

"And  Peabody  Nelson  walked  up  and  made  a 
funny  bow.  I  guess  he  didn't  have  time  to  practice 
it  much,  because  the  whole  thing  was  a  surprise,  and 
gave  her  a  bouquet. 

"Belle  was  as  proud  as  a  peacock.  But  I  told 
her  to  wait  until  you  recited.  You^d  show  her  a 
thing  or  two." 

"What!    Not  really?" 

"I  really  did,  mother.  I  wasn't  going  to  have 
her  thinking  that  her  mother  was  the  only  one  that 
could  do  things.  Mr.  Phillips  asked  us  to  ask  our 
fathers  and  mothers  to  come  to  school  and  do 
things — an  act  or  something.  I  forget  what  he 
called  it. 

383 


384  CHILD  TRAINING 

*' Elliotts  father  is  coining  next  week  to  play  the 
piano  for  us. ' ' 

* '  Elliot 's  father  ?    Are  you  sure  ? ' ' 

**Yes,  I'm  sure.  Mr.  Phillips  said,  'Elliot's 
father,  the  great  pianist,  will  play  for  you  next 
week.'  So  I  told  him  that  you  would  recite  for  us 
the  week  after  that." 

*'  Charlotte,  that  was  dreadful  of  you.  You  should 
have  asked  me  first.    Whatever  shall  I  do  ? " 

''That's  all  settled,  mother.  I  told  him  that  you 
would  sing  the  'Little  Brown  Bear'  and  tell  a  couple 
of  Brer'  Rabbit  stories,  and  maybe  one  of  your  own 
make-up  stories.    He  said  that  would  be  great. 

"And,  mother,  be  sure  to  wear  your  blue  dress 
with  the  floating  sleeves.  You  look  like  an  angel  in 
that,  and  I  do  want  you  to  make  a  hit. ' ' 

Mother  groaned,  but  what  could  she  do?  She 
wore  the  blue  dress  and  sang  the  songs,  and  told 
the  stories,  and  made  the  "hit". 

And  she  and  the  children  and  the  neighbors'  chil; 
dren  seem  closer  than  ever  before.  And  the  school 
means  more.    And  Charlotte  is  happy. 


"MY  FATHER" 

They  were  gathered  on  the  grocery  stoop  waiting 
for  the  first  bell  to  call  them  into  the  school  yard. 
A  huddle  of  boys  all  clamoring  to  be  heard. 

**My  father  kin  fight  any  one.  Even  if  he's  a 
ji'nt." 

*'My  father  can,  too." 

''Oh,  g'wan.  My  father  woiildn*t  fight  nobody^ 
He'd  scare  them  to  death  just  maMn'  a  face." 

"Who?  Your  father  make  a  face?  You  ought  to 
see  my  father.    Once  he '* 

But  his  speech  was  too  long.  Somebody  hurled 
him  off  the  edge  of  the  bread  box  and  he  had  to 
scramble  to  find  his  feet.  When  he  had  recovered 
them,  some  one  else  had  the  advantage. 

* '  And  my  father,  when  he  was  in  the  war,  killed  a 
German,  and  if  he  hadn't  a  killed  him " 

* 'Pooh  I  That's  no  thin*.  My  father  got  a  medal. 
He  was  a  captain." 

' '  My  father 's  a  fireman.  He  can  go  to  all  the  fires. 
He  can.    Go  right  inside  the " 

"You  ought  to  see  my  father.  He  can  do  circus 
acts.  Honest.  He  puts  me  on  his  shoulder  and  my 
little  brother  on  his  head  and  walks  all  around  the 
house  with  us  and  my  mother  screams  like  any- 
thing." 

"Bet  y'  my  father  can  beat  that.  He  can  make 
music  like  a  whole  band.  Drums  and  everything. 
And  when- " 

385 


386  CHILD  TRAINING 

*'Lissen,  lissen,*'  screams  a  small  boy  witli  the 
voice  of  a  siren  alarm.  *'Lissen  t*  me.  My  father 
went  down  to  "Washington  and  helped  to  make  Pres- 
ident Harding.  And  the  President  gave  him  a 
badge,  and  I'm  going  to  wear  it  in  the  parade. 

**And  lissen,"  as  there  were  signs  of  his  losing 
his  audience.  **My  father  is  going  to  get  a  new  job 
and  be  the  boss  of  all  your  fathers." 

**Who  says  the  boss  of  all  our  fathers?'* 

**My  father.    En  he  says " 

**Ah  g'wan,"  and  his  heels  twinkled  in  the  place 
where  his  face  was  last  seen. 

** Going  to  get  a  job.  What's  a  job?  Just  work. 
That's  all  about  a  job.  But  say,  fellers.  My  father 
knows  Charley  Chaplin." 

"NO!" 

"Yep.  He  made  the  scenery  for  onei  of  his  plays 
and  he  stood  right  close  up  beside  him  and  Charley 
said:    'It's  fine.'" 

"What  was  fine?" 

"I  don't  know.  That  was  what  he  said  to  my 
father,  and  my  father  told  me." 

The  bell  rang  and  the  crowd  fell  in  behind  the  boy 
whose  father  had  stood  right  up  close  beside  Char- 
ley and  had  been  told,  "It  was  :^e." 


HOSTAGES 

A  boy  whom  I  have  never  seen  and  in  all  likelihood 
never  shall  see  wrote  me  a  letter  and  thanked  me 
for  ' '  standing  up  * '  for  him.  He  said  it  was  fine  of 
me  and  that  he  would  always  remember  it. 

My,  I  was  glad  that  I  had  ''stood  up"  for  him, 
had  said  something  that  made  him  feel  that  way. 
I  shivered  to  think  how  close  I  had  been  to  not  doing 
it.  Suppose  I  hadn't.  The  boy  would  have  passed 
by  on  the  other  side  and  paid  no  heed  to  me  and  I 
should  have  lost  the  lift  his  word  of  thanks  and 
praise  brought  to  me. 

We  older  folk  grieve  children  oftener  than  we 
know.  We  forget  that  they  are  watching  and  lis- 
tening. We  forget  that  to  them  we  stand  for  certain 
big  things  dear  to  their  hearts,  and,  all  unthinking, 
we  fail  them. 

I  remember  reading  a  newspaper  story  of  a  group 
of  boys  who  waited  outside  the  door  beyond  which 
some  baseball  players  of  national  reputation  were 
trying  to  explain  to  cold-eyed  officials  how  it  hap- 
pened that  they  forgot  they  were  playing  a  game 
for  the  game's  sake  and  had  played  it  for  money 
for  themselves. 

As  the  players  came  out  and  started  away  a  little 
fellow,  made  bold  by  his  great  anxiety,  stepped  up 
to  one  of  the  men  and  pleaded:  **It  isn't  so,  is  it  I 
You  didn't  do  it,  did  youf    It  isn't  true,  what  they 


"I'm  afraid  it  is,  sonnie,"  stammered  the  big 

387 


388  CHILD  TRAINING 

man,  pulling  his  cap  down  further  and  striding  away. 
The  boy  fell  back,  watched  the  man  out  of  sight,  and 
then  went  away,  dejected  and  sad. 

I  felt  very  sorry  for  the  man  as  I  read  the  story. 
He  must  have  felt  the  child's  disappointment  keenly. 
Whatever  wrong  he  had  done  knowingly,  here  was 
the  unexpected  consequence  of  one  he  had  committed 
unknowingly. 

When  he  made  his  decision  he  forgot  all  about  the 
boys.  He  forgot  that  to  them  he  was  a  hero  who 
could  do  no  mean,  unknightly  deed.  I  think  if  he 
had  remembered  he  would  have  shaken  his  head  and 
thrown  his  lot  with  the  boys  who  loved  and  followed 
him. 

Many  times  we  have  failed  the  children,  but  many, 
many  times  they  have  saved  us  from  ourselves. 
The  shady  transaction,  the  selfish  advantages  are 
brushed  aside  at  the  thought  of  the  children,  who 
will  judge  us  in  the  light  of  their  knowledge  of  our 
real  selves. 

"My  fathered  never  do  that.** 

**Mine  either.'* 

**He  wouldn't  be  so  cheap.'* 

**Mine  either." 

So  do  our  children  become  hostages  to  righteous- 
ness. 


TO  THE  FATHEKS 

Dear  Fathers: 

Generally  when  people  talk  about  the  children 
and  what  should  be  done  for  them,  the  talk  is  direct- 
ed to  mother.  That  is  right  most  of  the  time,  but 
some  of  the  time  it  is  to  you  the  conversation  should 
be  pointed. 

You  should  have  a  share  in  the  companionship  of 
your  children  always.  You  should  take  upon  your- 
self the  proper  share  of  their  training.  You  espe- 
cially belong  to  the  twelve-year-old  boy.  He  needs 
his  father  (and  his  father  needs  him). 

You  want  your  boy  to  be  a  success.  Then  tell  him 
so  and  encourage  him.  Tell  him  you  believe  in  him 
and  expect  that  he  is  going  to  do  good  work.  Talk 
to  him  about  your  hopes  and  plans  for  him.  Don^t 
keep  them  a  secret  lest  the  boy  make  plans  that  will 
not  lie  with  yours  some  day.  Work  and  plan  to- 
gether. 

When  he  fails  in  some  little  detail  donH  let  your 
fears  for  him  magnify  it  into  a  disaster.  Tell  him 
how  you  failed  in  almost  the  same  way  when  you 
were  a  little  boy  and  how  you  got  over  it.  That  will 
do  more  good  than  all  your  scolding.  Some  boys 
never  know  that  their  fathers  ever  were  little  boys. 
They  picture  them  always  as  models  of  adult  good 
conduct  and  success. 

That  sort  of  father  looks  over  a  report  card  and 
says:    **What!    What  is  this?     C?    When  did  a 

389 


390  CHILD  TRAINING 

member  of  our  family  ever  get  a  C  ?  It  would  have 
been  considered  a  disgrace. ' '  Not  for  worlds  would 
he  acknowledge  to  the  boy  that  he  had  received  such 
a  mark. 

He  might  have  told  the  boy  that  he  had  been  rated 
C  and  had  been  scolded  and  punished  for  it  in  school 
and  at  home  and  it  hadn't  improved  him  one  particle 
that  he  could  remember. 

Far  better  to  have  said :  "I  see  you  are  having  a 
bad  time  with  your  mathematics.  Bring  your  lesson 
to  me  after  dinner  and  I'll  see  if  we  can  find  out 
what  the  trouble  is.  I  used  to  need  a  boost  once  in 
a  while  myself.  We'll  see  if  we  cannot  surprise  the 
teacher  with  an  A  this  month,"  and  then  sit  down 
patiently  and  work  the  thing  out  with  the  boy. 

Nagging  is  not  helping.  When  you  discover,  as 
you  very  likely  will,  that  the  boy  does  not  under- 
stand some  fundamental  principle,  it  is  silly  to  sit 
back  in  your  chair  and  sigh  with  mingled  disgust 
and  irritation,  *'My  goodness,  how  can  you  expect  to 
do  addition  of  algebra  when  you  do  not  understand 
what  a  minus  or  plus  means  ? ' '  Teach  him  and  save 
your  breath. 

This  year,  try  to  make  friends  with  your  son.  Try 
to  understand  him  and  help  him  with  his  lessons,  his 
conduct,  his  play.  Try  to  understand  his  troubles 
without  magnifying  or  belittling  them.  Be  a  boy 
again  with  a  man's  big  kindliness  and  trained  ex- 
perience. 

You'll  be  astonished  to  learn  what  a  really  intelli- 
gent boy  your  son  is. 


THE  INDEPENDENT  FAMILY 

"I'm  going  to  bring  up  my  children  to  be  inde- 
pendent of  each  other, ' '  said  the  youngest  mother  in 
the  group.  "I've  seen  too  much  of  this  family  busi- 
ness. 

"Just  what  do  you  mean  by  family  business?" 
asked  an  older  woman,  adjusting  her  spectacles  and 
looking  at  the  young  matron  with  kindly  inquiry. 

'  *  One  brother  or  sister  helping  all  the  rest.  I  see 
it  in  almost  every  family  I  know.  It  isn't  fair.  Each 
one  should  stand  by  himself  and  not  let  anybody 
help  him.  I'm  not  going  to  allow  one  member  of  the 
family  to  be  sacrificed  for  the  others. 

"I'm  going  to  teach  my  children  that  each  of  them 
must  stand  on  his  own  feet ;  that  none  of  them  owes 
anything  to  the  other.  I  don't  want  them  to  feel 
responsible  for  the  others  at  all." 

The  older  woman  smiled.  "Let  me  tell  you  my 
story,  my  dear.  When  we  were  married  we  were 
poor  and  our  four  children  came  along  fast.  From 
the  beginning  the  oldest  boy  took  a  share  of  the 
work  and  responsibility  of  bringing  up  the  family. 

"When  the  cake  didn't  go  all  the  way  round  he 
used  to  whisper,  *I  won't  have  any,  mother.'  When 
it  was  clothes,  his  always  lasted  the  longest  and,  in 
his  eyes  at  least,  looked  the  best. 

"He  worked  his  way  through  college  and  went 
out  to  business  with  the  idea  of  helping  his  brothers 

391 


392  CHILD  TRAINING 

and  sisters  through.  He  was  successful  from  the 
start  and  made  plenty  of  money. 

**His  life  has  been  the  fullest,  the  richest  in  ex- 
periences, the  happiest.  Yet  to  all  appearances  he 
carried  a  big  load  and  sacrificed  a  great  deal. 

*  *  Once  I  hinted  that  I  was  sorry  he  had  to  give  so 
much  of  his  thought  and  time  and  money  to  his  broth- 
ers and  his  sisters.  He  said,  'Why,  what  should  I 
have  done  without  them!  They  set  the  pace  for  me. 
They  gave  me  an  excuse  for  working.  Working  to 
do  something  for  one's  own  is  the  most  thrilling 
thing  one  does  in  this  world.  Don't  pity  me.  I'm 
in  luck. ' 

*' Perhaps  you  will  be  depriving  your  children  of 
the  most  worthwhile  thing  in  all  their  lives  if  you 
teach  them  to  live  independently  of  each  other.  I 
think  teaching  them  to  live  for  one  another  is  a 
great  deal  the  better  way  and  will  serve  them  better 
in  the  end. ' ' 

There  was  one  Teacher  greater  than  all  others, 
and  His  word  on  this  was,  **He  that  loseth  his  life 
shall  find  it" 


CHILDREN'S  EESPECT 

One  hears  a  great  deal  about  the  children  not  re- 
specting their  elders.  The  elders  like  to  say  that 
the  children  nowadays  have  little  consideration  or 
respect  for  age.  What  about  the  elders  having  re- 
spect for  the  children?    Like  begets  like,  you  know. 

"I  don't  see  why  our  children  are  so  rude  and  so 
inconsiderate.  Now,  my  sister's  children  are  as 
polite  and  considerate  as  can  be.  Ours  are  horribly 
rude." 

When  I  saw  how  the  family  treated  the  children 
I  understood  what  made  the  children  rude  and  incon- 
siderate. Nobody  in  the  family  gave  the  children 
the  slightest  consideration.  Never  having  been 
shown  any,  the  children,  of  course,  had  none. 

Benny  was  sitting  on  a  low  chair  by  the  window. 
He  was  deep  in  his  book.  When  his  mother  entered 
the  room  he  paid  no  attention  whatever.  She  walked 
over  to  him,  brushed  him  off  the  chair  as  though 
he  were  a  fly  and  seated  herself  without  a  word. 

Belle  was  on  the  floor  building  a  tottering  tower 
of  blocks.  Her  mother  walked  across  the  room  to 
lower  a  shade  and  her  skirt  brushed  against  the 
tower.  Down  it  came  with  a  crash  and  Belle  raised 
her  voice  in  a  howl  of  protest. 

''Well,  you  shouldn't  have  built  the  thing  right  in 
the  way,"  argued  her  mother.  ''Now,  go  upstairs 
and  wash  your  face  and  keep  still.  You  make  my 
head  ache  with  your  noise." 


394  CHILD  TRAINING 

At  the  table  Belle  announced,  "I  haven't  my  right 
fork.    Benny  has  mine." 

''Well,  you  have  one,  haven't  youT  Eat  your 
dinner  and  keep  still.  My,  children  are  the  worst 
nuisance  when  they  want  to  be. ' ' 

After  dinner  the  family  went  for  a  stroll  in  the 
garden.  The  children  wanted  to  go,  too.  **Put  your 
sweater  on,  Benny,"  called  his  mother. 

''Can't,"  said  Benny  in  return.  "Dad's  got  it 
round  his  shoulders." 

"Then  you'd  better  stay  in.  You've  been  in  the 
garden  all  day,  anyway,  so  it  won't  matter.  You 
stay  in  and  wait  until  we  come  back." 

Benny  did  not  like  that  and  set  up  a  doleful 
lament. 

' '  Aren  't  children  a  trial  1 ' '  sighed  mother.  ' '  They 
are  actually  making  me  old  before  my  time."^ 

Of  course,  if  by  your  acts  you  steadily  teach 
disrespect  for  the  rights  and  feelings  of  others,  the 
children  will  learn  just  that.  They  will  apply  their 
learning  to  every-day  living  and  the  elders  won't 
like  it  at  all.  But  only  the  elders  are  to  blame  in 
such  a  case  as  this.   Like  begets  like. 


"LET   'EM  ALONE  I" 

He  was  about  nine  years  old.  He  seemed  content 
with  the  world  and  his  special  place  in  it  as  he  dug 
himself  into  the  pile  of  sand  that  the  contractor  had 
dumped  in  front  of  the  school.  Deeper  and  deeper 
he  buried  himself,  until  only  his  yellow  head  showed 
above  the  heap  of  red-brown  sand. 

Miss  Lavinia,  picking  her  way  down  the  school 
steps,  stopped  at  the  sight  of  the  tousled  head.  She 
had  taught  for  many  years,  and  she  knew  to  a  button 
just  what  a  boy  should  be.  She  surveyed  Yellow- 
head  with  grim  disapproval.  He  returned  the  com- 
pliment. 

'*Boy,  does  your  mother  know  where  you  are  and 
what  you're  doing T* 

"Nope." 

"What  do  you  suppose  she  will  say  when  you  go 
home  with  your  eyes,  and  ears,  and  pockets,  and 
shoes  cram  full  of  sandT* 

"Nothin\'^ 

"Yes,  she  will,  and  you  know  she  will.'* 

"She  won't.    She  can't.    She's  dead." 

'  * 0-ho !    M-m-m !    Who  takes  care  of  you?  " 

"My  aunt." 

"Well,  aunts  are  almost  as  good  as  mothers  some- 
times," said  Miss  Lavinia  brightly. 

"They're  worse." 

"What?" 

*  *  Yep.   Mothers  won 't  let  you  do  nothin  \    *Dolph- 

395 


396  CHILD  TRAINING 

us  lives  up  my  block,  and  his  mother — she  won't  let 
him  do  no  thin'.  She  won't  let  him  play  in  this  sand. 
She  won't  let  him  skate  on  his  rollers.  She  won't 
let  him  chase  cats.    Won't  let  him  do  nothin'." 

**But  aunts?"  questioned  Miss  Lavinia.  She  was 
aunt  in  her  own  right  seven  times. 

"Oh,  them!" 

He  dismissed  **them"  with  a  flicker  of  eye,  a 
wrinkle  of  nose,  and  a  twist  of  mouth  that  came  and 
went  like  the  glint  of  a  camera  shutter. 

**They  make  you  do  everything.  They  make  you 
wash  your  ears.  They  make  you  go  to  bed.  They 
make  you  go  to  church.  They  make  you  come  in 
when  there's  company.  Make  you  do  everything," 
and  the  yellow  head  waggled  solemnly  out  of  the 
sand  heap. 

"But,"  persisted  Miss  Lavinia,  striving  to  make 
out  a  case  if  she  could,  "what  do  little  boys  like  folk 
to  do  for  them!" 

The  sand  flew  in  all  directions  as  Yellowhead  tore 
himself  out  of  it  and  scampered  down  the  street. 

"Let 'em  alone!  Let 'em  alone!  Goodness  sakes, 
let  'em  alone!"  he  yelled. 


Bert  and  Tnidie  sat  under  the  apple  tree  talking. 
To  be  strictly  accurate,  Trudie  was  talking.  Bert 
was  slapping  the  ground  with  his  garden  spade  and 
making  reply  in  short  grunts. 

"Why  won't  your  mother  let  you  go  to  the  pio- 
nic?'' 

"  *Coz." 

*^She  didn't  let  you  go  to  the  school  excursion,  so 
you  ought  to  be  let  go  to  the  picnic.  Why  can't  you?" 

''  'Coz." 

"Don't  she  want  to  make  you  the  sandwiches  I  It 
won 't  matter  'coz  my  mother  is  going  to  kill  the 
Plymouth  rooster  and  he  will  make  a  lot,  enough  for 
us  two.    Why  can 't  you  go  T  * 

"  'Coz." 

"Is  it  because  she's  afraid  you'll  get  sickness? 
None  of  us  has  been  sick  since  Christmas,  when 
Hughie  had  the  grippe.  You  can't  get  anything 
catching  in  June.  Only  in  winter  you  get  catching 
sickness.    Can't  you  come?" 

"Nope." 

"Maybe  it's  because  you've  done  something.  Did 
you  do  something?" 

"Nope." 

"Everybody  is  going.  Every  single  child  in  this 
district.  The  ice  cream  is  coming  in  on  the  two- 
thirty.  Bricks.  All  colors.  Think  we  can  coax 
her?" 

397 


398  CHILD  TRAINING 

**Nope." 

''  'Coz.'' 

Tnidie  cocked  her  head  on  one  side  and  consid- 
ered. This  was  a  serious  matter.  The  picnic  closed 
the  school  year.  All  the  children  went.  Each  one 
** supplied"  something  and  took  it  in  a  basket  lined 
with  the  whitest  of  napkins  and  smelling  of  heav- 
enly treats. 

In  the  forenoon  they  played  games  while  the 
mothers  laid  the  spread.  When  the  teacher  rang 
the  bell  they  gathered  and  ate  and  drank  as  they 
were  permitted  to  eat  and  drink  but  once  a  year. 

Toward  afternoon  the  minister  came  and  the  ice- 
cream wagon  and  the  special  cakes  that  had  been 
kept  at  home  to  the  very  last  minute  to  let  the  frost- 
ing set.    0  joy! 

And  Bert  couldn^t  go. 

**Why  won't  she  let  you  go!'*  she  demanded  des- 
perately and  as  one  tried  beyond  all  patience. 

*'  *Coz,"  snapped  Bert,  exasperated  in  his  turn, 
*  *  'coz  she 's  my  mother.  *  ^ 

Trudie  retired  to  think  it  over.  It  was  unthink- 
able.   Still  there  it  was.    Bert  couldn't  go. 

Toward  evening  when  Bert's  mother  had  taken 
her  chair  on  the  porch  and  sat  placidly  rocking, 
Trudie  marched  up  the  steps  and  confronted  her. 

''You're  the  meanest  mother  in  the  whole  village 
and  the  children  told  me  to  tell  you  so. ' ' 

"What?  What  do  you  mean?  Why?"  gasped  the 
amazed  lady. 

**  'Coz,"  replied  Trudie,  and  marched  down  again. 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  HOUSE    ^ 

The  grown-ups  had  gone  out  for  the  evening  and 
the  two  children,  Jack  and  Jill,  were  to  have  dinner 
alone. 

The  maid  announced  dinner.  In  the  dining  room 
their  places  were  laid  as  usual. 

** Please  put  my  plate  where  father  sits,"  said 
Jack.    "  I  'm  going  to  be  father. ' ' 

**I  suppose,  then,  that  you  think  I'm  going  to  be 
mother  and  you'll  boss  me.  "Well,  I  won't  have  it, 
that's  all,"  said  Jill. 

' '  What  of  it  ?    Can 't  you  talk  back  1 ' ' 

**But  you'd  always  have  the  best  of  it.  No.  I*m 
going  to  be  Aunt  Louise."  And  she  seated  herself 
and  shook  out  her  napkin. 

''No,"  protested  Jack.  '*I  won't  have  you  being 
Aunt  Louise.  Then  you'll  want  to  correct  my  table 
manners  and  watch  everything  I  eat.  I  won't  have  a 
chance  to  say  anything  to  you  at  all.  You  better  be 
mother." 

"No.  Then  you'll  get  first  helping  of  everything 
and " 

"Well,  I  ought  to,  oughtn't  I?   Aren't  I- 


*  *  No.  You  're  not  any  more  than  I  am.  You  think 
just  because " 

"The  man  is  the  head  of  the  house,  isn't  he?  I'm 
going  to  be  that  and  you'll  have  to  be  mother.  She 
never  makes  any  fuss.  She  just  sees  that  father 
gets  everything  he  wants,  and  you  and  I  get  every- 

399 


400  CHILD  TRAINING 

thing  we  want,  and  then  she  helps  herself  to  what 
she  wants.'* 

"She  gets  what's  left,  you  mean.  I'm  not  going 
to  stand  for  it.  You  can  be  father  if  you  want  to, 
but  I'm  not  going  to  be  mother,  I'll  be  Aunt 
Louise." 

The  maid  handed  her  a  plate  of  bread.  "Kate, 
please  bring  me  a  piece  of  dry  toast.  Dry  toast 
should  be  served  with  clear  soup  always,  to  my 
mind,"  she  said  in  a  stilted  tone.  The  maid  looked 
at  her  in  amazement. 

"Don't  mind  me,"  giggled  Jill.  "I'm  only  Aunt 
Louise.    I  hate  dry  toast. '  * 

Jack  looked  as  though  he  were  trying  to  fill  the  big 
chair  with  his  ninety  pounds  of  slenderness.  He 
cleared  his  throat  and  said:  "A  little  salt,  Kate, 
please.    I  like  salt  in  my  soup." 

Kate  reached  for  the  salt  in  haste.  "Don't  mind 
him,  either,"  said  Jill.    "He's  father." 

When  the  dessert  came  Kate  placed  it  in  front  of 
Jill.  She  served  Jack  first  and  carefully  picked 
out  all  the  raisins  to  add  to  his  share. 

"There,  Jack,  I  know  you  love  raisins.  I  really 
don't  want  so  many." 

"Thanks,"  said  Jack.  "That's  just  what  mother 
says." 


DISCOVERIES 

The  children  had  gone  to  bed  and  the  older  folks 
were  talking  over  the  doings  of  the  day. 

'  *  I  never  have  been  so  mortified  in  my  life.  Never. 
I  don't  want  to  look  Mrs.  Sweet  in  the  face  again,'* 
said  mother. 

**"Why?  "What  in  the  world  happened  to  Mrs. 
Sweet?"  asked  father.  Mother  rarely  spoke  in  the 
tone  she  had  used.    It  was  rarely  that  she  felt  so. 

'^It  was  awful.  I've  been  waiting  for  her  to  call. 
I  did  want  her  to  like  us.  To-day  she  came.  She  was 
sweet  aiid  gracious,  and  soon  after  she  came  she 
asked  for  the  children. 

"Bess  was  the  only  one  that  was  in,  and  I  sent 
for  her.  She  came  in  looking  lovely.  She  really  is  a 
fine-looking  child.  She  made  her  courtesy  to  Mrs. 
Sweet,  and  the  two  made  friends  immediately.  I 
could  see  that  Mrs.  Sweet  liked  her. 

"I  turned  to  make  the  tea,  and  when  I  looked  up 
again  I  nearly  dropped  the  teapot.  Bess  stood  on 
her  head,  turned  a  complete  somersault,  and  landed 
on  her  feet. 

"I  got  her  out  of  the  room  some  way,  but  I'm  just 
heartbroken  about  it.    What  will  she  think?" 

"Seems  to  me,"  said  grandmother,  "that  if  Mrs. 
Sweet  is  as  kind  and  as  clever  as  you  think  she  is, 
she  will  understand  all  about  it." 

"What  is  there  to  understand?  She  will  think  the 
child  has  no  breeding  to  do  a  thing  like  that  in  her 
mother's  sitting  room." 

401 


402  CHILD  TRAINING 

**I  don't  believe  she  will  think  anything  of  the 
kind." 

"Of  course,  she  was  very  polite  about  it.  She 
laughed  and  said,  'She  hasn't  done  any  harm.  She 
has  just  discovered  something  new  that  she  can  do 
and  she  is  delighted  with  the  idea.  She  will  practice 
it  for  a  while  and  then  forget  all  about  it.'  " 

** There,"  said  grandmother.  "I  told  you  she 
understood  all  about  it.  I  tell  you  all  children  do 
that.  They  discover  they  can  do  something,  they 
find  they  can  talk,  or  jump,  or  sing  a  song  and  they 
do  it  over  and  over  in  the  joy  of  the  discovery.  You 
did  it  yourself.  You  disgraced  me  before  the  min- 
ister one  day." 

**I?"  said  mother  in  amazement. 

**You.  You  discovered  you  could  rhyme  words 
and  you  were  chanting,  'Ann,  Sam,  Billy-be-dam' 
over  and  over  again  and  the  minister  came  in.  For 
a  minute  I  gasped  for  breath.  Then  we  both  laughed 
and  you  ran  away." 

"Well,  I  hope  Mrs.  Sweet  laughs,  too,"  said 
mother. 


GEANDMAS 

**0h,  Teddy,  my  gram's  coming  to-morrow.'* 

Teddy  glanced  up  at  his  enthusiastic  visitor  and 
then  resumed  his  laborious  cutting  of  a  deer's  head 
from  his  colored  picture  book. 

''This  thing  has  too  many  horns,"  he  muttered  be- 
tween his  closed  lips  and  twisted  tongue. 

"Yes,  she's  coming  to-morrow." 

''Huh.  These  scissors  are  so  dull  I  can't  cut  a 
thing  with  them.    Did  you  bring  yours  over  I ' ' 

' '  No,  I  was  in  such  a  hurry  to  tell  you  gram  was 
coming  I  forgot  everything  else." 

"What  do  you  care  if  she  is  coming?  She'll  only 
boss  you  more  than  your  mother  and  then  you  won't 
have  any  fun  at  all." 

"No,  she  won't.    Is  your  gram  like  that?" 

"Haven't  any."  And  he  hitched  another  knot  in 
his  tongue  as  he  cut  along  another  prong. 

"Oh.    They're  awful  nice  people  to  have." 

' '  Don 't  believe  it.    Too  many  people  now. ' ' 

"That's  because  you  haven't  any.  You  don't 
know.  My  gram  is  lovely.  She  has  a  silk  apron, 
black,  with  lace  on  the  pockets,  big  deep  pockets,  and 
there's  a  big  bunch  of  red  flowers  embroidered 
across  it. 

"She  always  puts  on  that  apron  when  she  sits 
down  to  knit  in  the  afternoon  and  I  sit  beside  her  and 
play  with  my  things  and  she  tells  me  stories. ' ' 

"What  about?" 

403 


404  CHILD  TRAINING 

**A11  kinds  of  things.  She  mostly  tells  me  true 
things  about  my  mother  when  she  was  gram's  little 
girl  and  was  bad  and  wouldn't  sew  her  hems  and 
cried. 

' '  Then  gram — she  was  her  mother — ^told  her  that 
the  hem  was  a  little  white  road  and  the  stitches  were 
little  trees  and  birds  and  flowers  and  things  that  she 
was  planting  and  when  she  got  them  all  planted  the 
door  of  the  little  house  at  the  end  of  the  road  would 
fly  open  and  the  fairy  would  come  out  and  reward 
her  for  making  such  a  fine  road  to  her  house. 

"Then  my  gram — she  was  her  mother,  you  know 
— ^would  take  two  fat  chocolates  out  of  her  pocket 
and  drop  them  into  her  lap  and  she  would  think  the 
fairy  had  rewarded  her." 

Teddy  had  forgotten  to  cut  the  last  horn  out. 

"Do  you  think  she  would  mind/'  said  he,  very 
earnestly,  "if  I  should  come  over  to  listen,  too?  I 
could  play  I  belonged  to  her  and  maybe  she  would 
have  a  chocolate  in  her  pocket  for  me,  too  ?  I  never 
had  a  gram  in  all  my  life. ' ' 

"Of  course,"  laughed  Betty.  "That's  what  I 
came  over  for.  She'll  be  here  to-morrow  and  she 
always  has  that  apron  in  her  bag  and  we  won 't  have 
to  wait  one  single  day.    It's  lovely  to  have  a  gram." 


TRAINING  AND  LOVING 

Children  are  very  precious.  To-day  they  are  more 
precious  than  ever.  Sometimes  they  receive  too 
much  attention.  We  are  too  careful  of  them  for 
their  good  health.  A  bit  of  letting  alone  is  very 
helpful  occasionally. 

There  are  your  child's  clothes.  He  should  look 
well,  of  course,  but  he  can  be  dressed  sensibly.  If  he 
is  going  to  school  do  not  dress  him  as  though  he 
were  going  to  a  party.  If  he  gets  a  bit  dirty  do  not 
scold  him.  A  little  dirt  does  a  child  no  harm.  All 
healthy  children  get  their  clothes  dirty.  A  child  who 
is  afraid  to  play  lest  he  soil  his  clothes  is  afraid  of 
his  mother.  That  is  bad.  Fear  makes  a  child  stop 
growing.  It  stunts  his  brain.  It  stunts  his  body. 
No  child  should  be  in  fear  of  anybody. 

*'But  I  never  strike  my  child,"  a  mother  protests. 

There  are  worse  things  that  are  quite  as  bad. 
How  about  scolding?  There  are  mothers  who  scold 
and  scold.  ''Did  you  wipe  your  feet?"  ''Look  at 
your  dirty  hands. "  "  You  are  the  worst  child  I  ever 
saw."    All  that  because  of  a  little  dirt. 

As  soon  as  a  child  has  finished  his  supper  his 
mother  wants  him  to  sit  down  and  study.  Or  she 
wants  him  to  do  his  music  lesson.  Or  there  is  the 
Sunday  school  lesson  to  be  learned. 

Early  and  late  she  keeps  after  the  child.  From 
the  morning,  "Did  you  get  up  yet?"  to  the  evening, 

405 


406  CHILD  TRAINING 

**Did  you  put  that  cat  out?"  her  voice  rings  in  his 
ears. 

He  grows  fidgety  and  nervous.  He  cannot  eat. 
His  sleep  is  restless.  He  is  afraid;  afraid  of  his 
mother. 

It  was  something  like  that  that  made  Solomon  say 
to  his  son  David,  "Better  a  dinner  of  herbs  where 
love  is,  than  a  stalled  ox  with  hatred." 

Children  must  have  love  as  well  as  care.  Learn  to 
help  with  your  silence.  One  must  be  very  patient 
with  little  children.  ''They  are  worth  all  the  love 
and  the  patience  that  it  takes  to  rear  them,"  you 
say,  and  we  all  agree. 

Children  grow  through  love  and  care  and  patience. 

''Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go  and 
when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it." 


PART  IX 

THE  CHILD  AND  HIS 
COUNTRY 


COLUMBUS 

Men  and  women  are  remembered  for  the  biggest 
thing  they  did.  All  the  little  things  that  happened 
to  them  or  that  they  made  happen  to  other  people 
fall  out  as  the  years  march  on  and  at  last  the  one 
thing,  the  big  thing,  is  left  standing  clear  and  high 
in  the  niche  prepared  for  it. 

Christopher  Columbus  discovered  America.  That 
is  the  one  thing  that  counts  for  him.  Again  and 
again  learned  men  have  risen  to  tell  us  that  Colum- 
bus did  not  discover  America ;  that  others  had  done 
so  before  him.  We  listen  and  bow  respectfully ;  but 
we  give  the  honor  to  Columbus  just  the  same. 

"Christopher  Columbus  discovered  America." 
To  the  majority  of  us  that  is  true  and  sufficient.  We 
are  not  haggling  over  incidents.  We  are  summing 
up  the  man's  life  into  the  one  big  thing  he  did.  We 
have  counted  in  all  the  struggles,  all  the  suffering, 
all  the  patient  waiting,  all  the  dangers,  all  the  tri- 
lunphs,  and  his  great  faith. 

All  his  life  Columbus  loved  the  sea.  He  knew  it 
and  never  feared  it.  Knew  it  as  you  know  the  land. 
He  thought  of  it  just  as  you  think  of  the  land — a 
place  to  live  on,  a  place  to  play  in,  to  dream  in, 
to  work  in,  and  at  last,  perhaps,  to  die  and  be  buried 
in.    It  was  his  home. 

He  believed  in  the  sea.  It  called  to  him  from  its 
vastness  and  would  not  be  stilled.  He  dreamed  of 
the  time  when  he  might  set  sail  and  go  on,  and  on, 

409 


410  CHILD  TRAINING 

and  on,  nntil  the  never-ending  deeps  would  carry 
him  round  the  earth  and  home  again.  That  the 
friendly  sea  could  harbor  monsters  and  devils  wait- 
ing to  devour  his  poor  ship  was  impossible  for  him 
to  believe. 

But  how  to  get  others  to  share  his  faith,  his  hope, 
and  his  courage !  From  court  to  court  he  traveled, 
facing  rebuff  and  discouragement  and  treachery. 
The  light  of  youth  left  his  eyes.  Its  spring  went 
out  of  his  step.  His  hair  was  silvered  and  his  shoul- 
ders bowed  when  at  last  he  gained  the  favor  he 
sought  and  set  sail  for  the  unknown. 

Of  all  the  souls  that  crossed  the  sea  with  him,  his 
was  the  one  that  knew  no  doubt,  that  held  no  fear, 
that  was  illumined  by  steadfast  faith.  By  sheer 
force  of  soul,  by  the  strength  of  the  faith  that  was 
his,  he  held  that  panicky  crew  together  and  sailed  on 
to  victory. 

And  he  discovered  America. 

Aye,  he  did  more  than  that.  He  discovered  a  man. 
He  left  us  a  legacy  of  indomitable  will,  superb  cour- 
age, heroic  faith,  and  godlike  patience.  He  left  us 
the  tradition  of  struggle  for  an  idea.  Life  I  Death? 
What  matter !    Sail  on. 

And  discover  America. 


THANKSGIVING  PRAYER 

The  Spirit  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  hovers  over  this 
country's  sleeping  millions  and  makes  his  prayer: 

For  the  safe  passage  of  the  founders'  ship,  safe 
cradled  in  Thy  hand, 

For  the  brave  souls  that  dared  and  faced  the  wil- 
derness to  live  and  sing  Thy  praise, 

For  the  strength  and  courage  that  reared  their 
homes  and  gathered  in  their  bounteous  harvests,  all 
from  Thee, 

For  their  sustaining  faith  in  what  they  undertook 
to  do,  the  faith  that  held  when  weaker  souls  could 
find  excuse  and  turn  again  to  ease  and  pleasant 
ways, 

Father,  I  thank  Thee. 

For  the  brave  sons  who  led  the  way  to  greater 
heights, 

For  those  who,  when  the  vision  came,  laid  down 
their  all  and  measured  not  the  loss,  but  held  to  the 
faith  the  founders  taught  and  left  it  to  their  children 
strengthened  by  a  hundredfold. 

For  Washington  and  Hale  and  Lafayette  and  all 
their  host, 

Father  of  Men,  I  thamk  Thee, 

For  the  pioneer  who  pushed  the  forest  back;  for 
those  who  planted  on  the  prairie  waste;  for  those 
who  bridged  the  roaring  streams  and  laid  the  shin- 

411 


412  CHILD  TRAINING 

ing  rails;  for  those  who  searched  out  secrets  of  the 
hidden  things  until  a  voice  may  speak  three  thou- 
sand miles  and  lights  may  flash  and  ships  may  fly; 
for  those  who  man  the  fires  and  guide  the  ways  of 
all  this  wondrous  miracle, 
For  those  who  heal  and  teach  and  pray, 

Lord  of  the  Universe,  I  thcmk  Thee. 

For  those  who,  when  danger  threatened,  sent  their 
own  sons  that  Right  might  be  preserved,  sent  them 
in  ships,  once  more  cradled  in  Thy  hand,  still  strong 
in  faith  that  Thou  this  people  set  apart  to  carry 
Liberty  to  all  the  world, 

For  those  brave  sons  who  went  and  gave  their 
lives  in  going. 

For  the  victory  and  the  hope  of  peace  to  come, 

Mighty  Jehovah,  I  thcmk  Thee. 

Grant  that  this  people  raised  to  power  and  pride 
may  still  be  wise  in  love  and  tender  in  humility. 

Grant  that  they  hold  the  founders '  faith  and  serve 
all  men  in  stern  simplicity  and  truth. 

Grant  that  they  learn  Thy  law  and  cling  to  love 
and  Thee. 

God  of  All  Men,  I  thank  Thee. 


THE   FOURTH  OF  JULY 

Our  country's  birthday  is  here.  We  must  wish 
her  many  happy  returns. 

Birthdays  are  pleasant  things.  They  are  filled 
high  with  happiness.  Friends  come  bearing  gifts. 
The  day  is  merry  with  flowers  and  feasting  and 
dancing.  Memories  of  kindly  faces  and  loving  voices' 
shine  out  again  in  the  light  of  the  flickering  birthday 
candles  and  the  familiar  birthday  songs. 

This  is  America's  birthday.  What  shall  we  give 
her?    What  gifts  would  she  value  most? 

Our  service.  Our  work.  America  needs  sons  and 
daughters  who  will  work  for  her.  She  needs  work- 
ers that  will  turn  out  honest  work,  accurate  work, 
clean-cut  work.  Work  that  bears  the  imprint  of 
souls  dedicated  to  the  honor  and  glory  of  their 
country.    Souls  that  were  made  in  America. 

America  needs  us  all.  She  needs  our  art,  our 
crafts,  our  trades,  our  labor.  We  will  hew  and  ham- 
mer and  grind  and  polish.  The  great  wheels  shall 
turn,  the  giant  furnaces  roar,  the  mighty  engines 
purr  in  her  service. 

The  best  work  of  our  brains,  the  finest  work  of  our 
hands,  the  purest  essence  of  our  spirits  shall  go 
into  the  service  that  we  will  lay  this  day  at  the  feet 
of  our  country. 

We  will  offer  her  our  faith.  We  will  renew  it  on 
this  day,  that  it  may  be  clean  enough,  bright  enough, 
strong  enough.    The  days  of  confusion  and  many 

413 


414  CHILD  TRAINING 

voices  dimmed  it.  On  this  day  we  will  renew  it  and 
offer  it  afresh. 

We  will  pledge  ourselves  to  maintain  the  ideals 
of  America.  We  will  promise  to  uphold  the  stand- 
ards of  liberty  and  justice,  humanity  and  loving 
kindness,  the  ideals  of  our  country  since  the  begin- 
ning. 

We  will  offer  her  the  sacrifices  of  the  past  years. 
We  will  point  to  the  rows  of  white  crosses  on  the 
scarred  battlefields  and  whisper:  "It  was  for  you 
they  died!" 

We  will  point  to  our  hosts  of  happy  children  and 
say:  "These  shall  live  for  you.  They  can  do  no 
more. ' ' 

This  is  our  country's  birthday.  We  wish  her 
many,  many  happy  returns  of  the  day. 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON 

George  Washington  is  America  and  America  is 
George  Washington,  the  greatest  idea  of  govern- 
ment known  of  men.  This  is  his  birthday,  the  birth- 
day of  America. 

All  the  pictures  of  Washington  show  him  as  a 
strong,  grave,  assured  man.  His  is  the  face  of  one 
who  had  great  faith :  faith  in  himself  and  faith  in  the 
righteousness  of  his  idea. 

Looking  at  him  as  he  stands  out  from  the  canvas, 
we  feel  the  power  of  the  man ;  power  to  plan  and  to 
carry  through.  We  recognize  the  leader.  We  feel 
that  he  could  plan  out  his  course,  believe  in  it  with 
all  the  force  of  his  courageous  spirit,  and  hold  to 
it  at  any  cost. 

We  know  that  this  is  the  face  of  a  man  who  could 
pray.  Few  of  us  know  how  to  pray  or  even  know 
what  a  real  prayer  is.  Most  of  us  think  it  is  a  hur- 
ried cry  for  help ;  a  cry  of  distress  in  the  night  of 
trouble;  a  plea  for  protection;  a  beggar's  cry  for 
alms. 

The  real  prayer  is  none  of  these.  It  is  something 
quite  different.  It  is  a  summation  of  the  soul's 
power.  It  is  a  recognition  of  the  soul's  relationship 
with  the  great  soul  of  the  universe.  God.  Only  the 
great  soul,  bom  of  trial  and  stress,  really  knows  how 
to  pray.    Washington  knew. 

He  conceived  the  idea  of  America.  This  should  be 
the  land  where  men  might  live  and  grow  in  free- 

415 


416  CHILD  TRAINING 

dom.  One  man  should  have  the  right  to  call  the  next 
one  brother,  and  the  duty  of  shouldering  the  other's 
burden.  Men  should  be  free  in  that  sense  and  that 
spirit,  the  same  spirit  that  made  Washington's  life 
a  prayer. 

While  the  battle  for  Washington 's  great  idea  was 
on  he  never  ceased  to  pray.  Once  in  the  winter  of 
Valley  Forge,  when  things  looked  dark  for  the  peo- 
ple of  America,  a  Quaker  heard  Washington  praying 
in  the  woods. 

He  rushed  home  and  told  his  wife  Betsy  about  it. 
''We'll  win  surely,  Betsy,  for  I  heard  it  in  his 
prayer." 

America  won,  for  Washington's  prayer  was  but 
his  gathering  of  all  his  forces  to  the  end  he  had  in 
mind;  the  linking  of  his  plan  to  that  of  the  Great 
Plan;  the  turning  on  of  the  power  when  all  the 
machinery  had  been  placed  and  made  ready. 

Washington  will  never  die  while  the  spirit  of  him, 
the  struggle  for  human  liberty,  remains  a  part  of  the 
people.  His  prayer  will  bring  its  own  answer,  and 
there  will  be  no  place  for  the  selfishness  and  greed 
and  discontent  that  try  to  thwart  it. 

On  this,  his  birthday,  it  might  be  well  for  us  to 
think  on  these  things. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN 

Benjamin  Franklin's  birthday!  There  isn't  the 
slightest  fear  in  my  mind  that  Franklin  will  be  for- 
gotten. He  lived  so  that  America  can  never  forget 
him.  He  wove  his  life  into  hers  and  so  it  will  stand 
forever  and  ever. 

I'd  like  the  children  to  know  how  he  did  that;  just 
what  things  he  did  that  made  America  love  him  so 
long  and  so  well.  I'd  like  them  to  know  the  quali- 
ties that  America  knits  into  her  sonl. 

There  are  people  who  say  that  only  money  and 
noise  and  advertisement  can  gain  one  a  place  here. 
It  looks  that  way  sometimes  when  one  is  so  close  to 
the  noise  and  the  splurge  of  the  advertised  success. 
But  not  really,  for  there  is  Benjamin  Franklin. 

Step  back  into  the  past  and  look  at  him.  You  will 
discover  that  he  did  well  the  things  that  America 
thinks  a  great  man  ought  to  love  to  do.  He  did  it  all 
enthusiastically ;  had  a  good  time  doing  it.  He  made 
a  fine  job  of  living. 

He  began  when  he  was  a  poor  lad  with  nothing  but 
his  body  and  brain  to  rely  on.  He  went  to  work, 
saved  his  money,  and  studied  hard  to  find  ways  o^ 
improving  himself.  We  like  that.  We  like  to  see  a 
man  build  his  own  bridges  and  then  pass  over  them, 
especially  when  he  builds  the  sort  that  others  may 
use  after  him. 

He  took  a  great  and  lively  interest  in  all  that  was 
going  on  about  him.  He  was  a  leader.  He  started 
things.     There  is  a  printing  house  he  started  in 

417 


418  CHILD  TRAINING 

Philadelphia,  and  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 
The  university  is  a  great  monument  for  a  man,  all 
by  itself.    But  he  did  more. 

He  thrust  himself  deeper  into  the  lives  of  the  peo- 
ple. We  were  a  confused  people,  struggling  to  make 
clear  to  ourselves  and  others  that  we  were  a  nation 
"conceived  in  liberty  and  brought  forth  in  freedom." 
All  was  hubbub  and  uproar.  Franklin  was  one  of 
the  clear-headed  ones.  **Come,  come,'^  said  he,  *'we 
must  all  hang  together  or  we'll  hang  separately," 
and  he  helped  draft  the  Declaration  of  Independence. 
We  love  him  for  that. 

Then  he  went  to  France  and  told  our  story  so  well 
that  France  came  to  our  side  and  helped  us  through. 
Then  he  helped  to  establish  peace  between  Great 
Britain  and  the  United  States.  He  had  seen  his 
country  safely  placed  among  the  nations  of  the  earth. 
We  cheer  him  for  that. 

But  he  made  no  noise.  He  made  no  splurge.  He 
lived  thoroughly  and  weU  a  life  of  service,  and 
America  loves  him. 


LINCOLN 

The  class  in  history  was  reciting.  They  had 
studied  the  life  of  Lincoln  for  a  month  and  now  they 
were  telling  the  teacher  and  each  other  what  they 
had  gathered  from  it. 

The  teacher  sat  at  the  desk,  her  notebook  before 
her,  marking  each  recitation.  Her  eyes  were  sad. 
Her  voice  was  gray  with  disappointment.  She  had 
tried  so  hard  to  fill  these  boys  full  of  the  inspiration 
of  the  great  soul  of  this  man  and  now  this  was  all, 
over  and  over  again : 

**  Lincoln  was  born  in  a  log  cabin  in  Kentucky. 
His  parents  were  poor" — and  so  on,  down  to  *'He 
was  shot  in  Ford's  Theater  on  the  night  of  April 
15,  1865." 

Dry,  dreary  routine  stuff.  And  she  had  hoped 
for  some  fire,  some  spark  lighted  in  some  soul.  Ah, 
teaching  was  but  a  barren  trade 

"William,"  she  called.  **Wee  Wullie,"  his 
mother  would  have  called. 

A  swaying  willow  wand  of  a  child  rose,  holding 
to  the  edge  of  his  desk.  His  face  was  pale  and  bore 
the  traces  of  pain  about  the  great  dark  eyes.  Often 
William  could  not  attend  classes  because  he  was  ill. 
His  mother  said  he  was  ill;  William  never  men- 
tioned it.  He  talked  very  little.  It  took  a  great  deal 
to  excite  him  sufficiently  to  make  him  use  his  scant 
strength  in  speech  and  when  aroused  he  spoke  with 
a  trace  of  the  Scotch  burr  of  his  mother's  tongue. 

419 


420  CHILD  TRAINING 

*'I'm  thinkin',**  said  he,  ''that  yon  was  a  great 
mon.  A  very  great  mon.  In  fact,  I'm  thinkin'  that 
he  was  the  greatest  mon  of  all.  You  see,  he  could 
thole  so  well. 

* '  You  mind,  when  he  was  a  wee  chap,  he  lost  his 
mither.    Trouble  came  to  him  in  the  very  beginning. 

''When  he  was  a  lad  he  had  to  work  very  hard 
and  get  very  little  for  it.  He  chopped  wood  many 
and  many  a  day  and  plowed  fields  and  tended  the 
cattle.  I'm  thinkin'  how  hard  his  back  must  have 
ached  at  night  and  him  not  sayin'  a  word  about  it. 

' '  Then  he  grew  into  a  mon  and  carried  his  pain  in 
his  mind.  He  must  have,  for  how  else  could  he  know 
that  the  slaves  were  suffering? 

* '  Then  he  declared  the  terrible  war.  Then  he  suf- 
fered a  thousand  years  in  one,  for  if  he  didn't  help 
the  slaves  he  suffered  their  pains,  and  if  he  fought 
through  the  war  he  suffered  the  pains  of  all  the 
people  it  touched. 

"You  can  see  it  all  in  his  face.  At  the  end  they 
killed  him,  but  that  didn't  trouble  him,  for  hadn't 
he  lived  harder  than  ever  he  could  die? 

"I'm  thinkin'  he  was  a  great  mon.  The  greatest 
of  aU,  for  he  could  thole  so."  And  Wee  Wullie  sat 
down. 

"Thole,"  said  the  teacher  with  shining  eyes,  "is 
the  Scotch  word  for  suffering  in  silence." 


MEMORIAL  DAY 

The  children  want  to  know  what  Memorial  Day 
means.  What  is  it  for?  Why  do  we  keep  it?  Why 
are  the  flags  lowered?  Why  are  the  bands  playing 
and  the  soldiers  marching? 

Because  this  is  the  day  that  America  sets  apart  to 
commune  with  the  spirits  of  her  honored  dead. 

You  know  when  you  go  into  church  unhappy,  rest- 
less, and  troubled,  you  sit  down  quietly  and  give 
your  soul  to  prayer.  You  think  of  the  Christ  on  the 
cross.  You  remember  that  He  died  that  you  might 
live  and  live  more  worthily.  His  spirit  steals  into 
your  heart. 

You  think  of  the  saints  who  followed  His  foot- 
steps. You  remember  how  they  denied  themselves 
and  suffered  for  the  privilege  of  doing  a  service 
for  those  about  them. 

You  remember  how  Stephen  was  stoned,  how 
Francis  was  despised,  how  Joan  was  martyred.  You 
lose  yourself  in  communion  with  the  spirits  of  the 
great  dead. 

They  gather  one  by  one  about  you.  You  see  each 
of  them  in  the  light  of  his  service.  They  loom 
grandly  above  you.  The  little  annoyance,  the  little 
meannesses  fall  away  from  you.  They  are  lost  in 
the  serene  atmosphere  of  holy  service. 

The  great  organ  rolls  out  in  solemn,  triumphant 
Te  Deum.  Your  soul  mounts  with  it.  You  take  a 
new  start.    Life  is  bigger  and  better  than  you  ever 

421 


422  CHILD  TRAINING 

supposed  it  to  be.  You  consecrate  yourself  to  a 
higher  purpose  and  go  away  strengthened  and  com- 
forted. 

That  is  really  what  Memorial  Day  means  to 
America.  This  day  we  spend  in  communion  with  the 
spirits  of  our  great  dead. 

We  look  at  the  calm  face  of  Washington  and  we 
remember  that  we  have  not  always  placed  the  good 
of  our  country  first. 

We  stand  before  Abraham  Lincoln  and  we  wish 
as  we  look  at  that  patient,  suffering,  loving  face  that 
we  had  been  just  a  bit  more  patient,  just  a  fraction 
more  kindly  to  the  poor  and  helpless  who  passed 
our  way. 

We  stand  beside  the  grave  of  the  scientist  who 
gave  his  life  for  the  secret  he  wrested  from  the  silent 
soul  of  the  universe.  He  died  that  men  might  live, 
that  other  men's  pain  might  be  the  less. 

We  think  of  the  nurse  who  tended  the  sick  and  the 
dying.    We  stand  by  the  soldier  who  died  for  us. 

They  gather  about  us  this  Memorial  Day,  an  in- 
numerable host.  We  feel  them  inspiring  us  to  carry 
on  the  service  they  laid  down.  We  feel  them  pray- 
ing that  we  struggle  and  achieve.  A  deep  humble- 
ness, a  cleansing  confession  of  unworthiness,  a 
strong  desire  to  strive  to  win  our  place  among  them 
fill  and  renew  our  souls. 

Memorial  Day  is  a  day  of  consecration. 


FLAG  DAY 

TO     THE     CHILDREN     OF     THE     UNITED 
STATES: 
This  is  Flag  Day,  the  Flag's  birthday.    Each  day 
you  salute  your  flag. 

/  pledge  allegiance  to  my  flag 

And  to  the  Republic  for  which  it  stands^ 

One  nation,  in-di-vis-i-hle 

With  Liberty  and  Justice 

For  AIL 

For  All,  All,  All.  The  word  rolls  like  a  drum  beat 
round  the  world.  For  even  the  least  of  these,  Lib- 
erty and  Justice. 

It  was  for  this  the  Liberty  Bell  rang  out  through 
the  hushed  streets  of  Philadelpha. 

It  was  for  this  the  swift-flying  fingers  of  Betsy 
Ross  fashioned  the  first  flag  and  fastened  the  stars 
— the  first  stars  for  Liberty's  crown. 

It  was  for  this  Washington  gave  up  his  quiet,  or- 
dered life  and  took  upon  his  shoulders  the  burdens 
of  the  people. 

It  was  for  this  he  led  that  forlorn  and  ragged 
army  through  eight  terrible  years  of  suffering  and 
doubt  and  discouragement  to  triumphant  victory. 

It  was  for  this  the  Continental  Army  left  their 
bloody  footprints  in  the  snows  of  Valley  Forge. 

It  was  for  this  the  nation  offered  up  the  glory  of 
its  youth  at  Gettysburg. 

423 


424  CHILD  TRAINING 

It  was  for  this  Lincoln  died. 

It  was  for  this  your  brothers  crossed  the  ocean  in 
1917. 

It  is  for  this  that  thousands  of  little  white  crosses, 
sheltered  by  the  American  flag  and  smothered  in 
crimson  poppies,  stand  in  Flanders  field. 

When  you  salute  that  flag  you  salute  the  countless 
dead  who  died  that  you  might  live — ^with  Justice  and 
Liberty  for  All. 

You  salute  the  living  hosts  who  by  their  courage 
and  devotion  to  daily,  unlovely,  and  unsung  tasks 
carry  on  the  life  of  this  great  Republic  in  the  spirit 
of  Liberty  and  Justice  for  All. 

You  salute  the  children  yet  to  come,  for  you 
pledge  your  sacred  honor  to  pass  on  to  them,  and  in 
greater  measure,  what  you  have  found  under  the 
folds  of  that  flag,  Liberty  and  Justice  for  AU. 

For  All.   It  rolls  like  a  drum  beat  round  the  world. 


THEODORE  ROOSEVELT 

Theodore  Roosevelt  loved  children.  I  know  that, 
because  he  visited  a  great  school  full  of  them  one 
day,  and  I  saw  his  eyes  dance  with  fun,  glow  with 
enthusiasm,  snap  with  appreciation,  narrow  in  in- 
tensity of  interest  as  he  talked  to  them  in  groups 
or  by  ones,  as  he  met  them  about  the  building. 

Once  he  took  off  his  eyeglasses  and  polished  them. 
That  was  when  he  met  little  blind  Martha  feeling 
her  way  down  the  hall  that  led  to  her  classroom. 

The  children  loved  Theodore  Roosevelt.  I  know 
that,  because  I  saw  them  thrill  at  his  word  of  en- 
couragement, saw  them  cuddle  down  in  their  seats 
with  a  satisfied  smile  in  their  eyes,  listening  to  the 
story  he  was  telling,  heard  it  in  their  voices  as  they 
sang  good-by  to  him. 

On  his  way  out  a  mite  of  a  boy  who  had  wandered 
out  of  the  kindergarten  stopped  in  front  of  him  and 
gazed  up  into  his  face.  Roosevelt  smiled  down  at 
him  and  the  little  fellow  held  out  his  hand  and  said, 
''Hullo,  Big  Man.' » 

''Hullo,  Small  Boy,"  he  said.  "Hullo,  I  nearly 
missed  you." 

The  Big  Man  passed  out  of  the  door  and  it  closed 
behind  him.  But  he  left  in  that  school  memories 
that  will  last  as  long  as  life  lasts  for  the  children 
who  saw  him  that  day.  He  had  touched  their  lives, 
just  for  an  instant,  and  they  had  glowed  at  the  touch, 
had  felt  his  bigness. 

425 


426  CHILD  TRAINING 

Theodore  Eoosevelt  loved  the  people  of  Americsa. 
He  was  one  of  them.  The  engineer  of  the  train  that 
carried  him  across  the  continent  felt  that  he  was 
carrying  his  own  brother,  and  gloried  in  the  thought. 

The  miner  who  came  out  of  the  depths  of  the  pit 
to  shake  hands  with  the  great  President  felt  that  he 
had  shaken  hands  with  a  man  who  had  cared  about 
him  and  who  would  go  on  caring  for  him  when 
others  had  forgotten. 

The  men  and  women  and  children  who  waited  pa- 
tiently in  the  street  for  hours  just  to  see  him  pass 
took  his  big  sunny  smile  personally  and  treasured 
the  remembrance.  They  felt  that  a  friend  had 
passed  by  and  given  them  cordial  greeting.  They 
cheered  for  him  while  he  lived  and  they  grieved  for 
him  when  he  died,  for  a  great  leader  had  passed  on 
and  left  them  comfortless. 

We  are  about  to  celebrate  his  birthday.  The 
schools  will  not  be  closed.  The  flag  that  he  loved 
will  be  floating  to  do  him  honor,  and  the  children 
housed  so  securely  under  its  folds  will  be  doing  what 
he  would  most  wish  them  to  do — studying  the  great- 
ness of  America. 

And  the  greatness  of  America  lies  in  her  sons  and 
daughters.    Their  bigness  is  her  glory. 


THE  UNKNOWN  SOLDIER 

Under  the  flag  draped  casket  lies  an  unknown 
soldier, 

A  nation  pays  him  honor. 

He  lies  with  the  great  dead,  a  medal  of  honor  upon 
his  breast. 

Guns  fire  salutes,  stem  generals,  grave  Grovr 
ernors,  care-burdened  leaders,  join  in  paying  him 
homage. 

An  unknown  soldier.  Nameless.  Just  one  of  the 
soldiers  who  wore  his  country's  uniform  and  died  in 
her  service. 

For  him  the  flag  hangs  at  half-mast. 

For  him  the  solemn  strains  of  the  funeral  march. 

For  him  the  uncovered  heads  and  the  orations. 

For  him  the  reverence  and  the  tears  of  a  great 
people. 

An  unknown  soldier.  No,  no,  no!  A  well-known 
soldier. 

You  knew  him  and  loved  him.  He  played  with 
you,  carried  you  on  his  shoulder,  dropped  sweeties 
in  your  lap  as  he  passed  you.  You  knew  him  by 
name  and  called  to  him  familiarly.  You  never 
thought  of  him  as  great.  He  never  thought  of  him- 
self that  way.    He  was  your  friendly  playmate. 

He  passed  you  daily  on  his  way  to  work  down  at 
the  corner,  or  in  the  city,  or  on  grand-dad's  farm. 
His  clothes  were  the  clothes  of  a  worker  and  his 
hands  were  soiled  and  brown  when  he  passed  by  at 

427 


428  CHILD  TRAINING 

evening.  But  lie  still  smiled  at  you.  Remember 
him  now  ? 

When  the  call  to  war  came  he  said  nothing  about 
it.  He  gathered  up  his  things;  there  weren't  many. 
A  few  shirts  and  handkerchiefs  and  a  couple  of 
photographs  bunched  into  an  old  suitcase  that  was 
held  together  by  one  strap.  He  smiled  good-by  to 
you  as  he  passed  on  his  way  to  camp.  Remember 
him  now? 

You  missed  him  for  a  while.  You  heard  he  was 
out  at  camp  as  you  wound  the  muddy  brown  wool 
that  your  mother  was  knitting  into  socks.  You 
hoped  he  would  get  a  pair  of  them.  He  did.  He 
wore  them  in  the  trenches  and  the  fields.  He  had 
them  on  when  they  picked  him  up,  straightened  his 
broken  body  and  buried  it  with  a  little  flag  and  a 
white  cross  marking  the  place. 

Don't  you  remember  him  now?  Why,  child,  he's 
the  one  that  didn't  come  back  the  day  the  boys 
marched  home,  the  band  playing,  the  flags  flying, 
and  all  the  mothers  and  sisters  cheering  and  the 
fathers  jumping  up  and  down  and  shouting  madly. 
He's  the  one  the  gold  star  is  for  on  that  flag  that 
hangs  in  the  hall. 

That's  the  one.  The  very  one  you  know.  He's 
every  boy  who  went  out  when  he  was  called  and  laid 
down  his  life  in  the  struggle  to  carry  through  the 
duty  that  was  his.  Died  doing  his  duty,  the  boy  of 
America.  The  boy  you  saw  every  day.  The  boy 
who  whistled  and  sang  and  played  with  you. 

Remember  him  now? 

That's  the  boy.  For  him  the  flag  is  lowered.  For 
him  the  heads  are  uncovered.  For  him  America 
proudly  mourns.    Her  Unknown  Son. 


EPILOGUE 

The  new  playground  teacher  seemed  to  be  having 
a  hard  time.  He  would  dart  suddenly  into  the  midst 
of  a  group  of  players,  seize  a  couple  of  them,  lecture 
them,  gesticulate  fiercely,  and  send  them  back  to 
their  play.  In  a  few  minutes  he'd  repeat  the  per- 
formance with  another  group.  At  the  close  of  the 
session  he  was  tired  and  limp. 

''Tired?"  asked  the  old  policeman  who  guarded 
the  *'kids"  at  the  crossing  by  the  playground. 

'  *  Tired  1 ' '  groaned  the  young  man,  lifting  his  hat 
and  mopping  his  head  resentfully.  ''I'm  sweating 
like  a  bull,  and  I'm  so  tired  I  can  scarcely  lift  my 
feet.    A  little  more  of  this  will  finish  me." 

The  old  officer  laughed.  "The  trouble  with  you 
is,  you  see  too  much." 

"See  too  much!  I  can't  see  half  enough.  I  have 
my  eyes  all  over  the  lot  and  I  can't  see  what  they  are 
doing  half  the  time.    They  get  away  with  murder." 

"That's  what  I'm  telling  you.  You  see  too  much. 
Why  do  you  want  to  see  all  that  five  hundred  or 
so  kids  are  up  to  ?    Forget  it  and  let  them  play. ' ' 

"What?  Forget  it?  Man,  they'd  kill  one  an- 
other. ' ' 

The  old  man  laughed  again  merrily.  "Kill  one 
another?  I've  lived  on  this  beat  and  worked  on  it 
nearly  forty  years,  and  never  a  kid  have  I  known  to 
mark  another,  much  less  kill  him.  The  worst  that 
happened  one  of  them  would  get  a  shiner.  And 
that's  good  for  him.    It's  part  of  his  education." 

429 


430  CHILD  TRAINING 

The  playground  teacher  tried  to  look  severe.  He 
thought  he  ought  to.    **I  can't  let  a  boy  fight." 

**No?    Did  you  ever  have  a  fight  yourself,  now?" 

**0f  course."  A  faint  smile  stole  into  the  teach- 
er's face  and  voice.  *'0f  course.  But  it  shouldn't 
be  encouraged." 

"No,  nor  discouraged  too  much,  either.  When 
they're  at  the  scrapping  age,  they'll  scrap  a  bit, 
and  never  let  on  you  see  them  until  a  third  one  inter- 
feres. One  to  one  is  no  matter,  but  two  to  one  is 
bad.    Scatter  them  then. 

**But  if  you  could  just  learn  to  look  without  seeing 
too  much  it  would  be  a  great  help  to  you  and  the  kids. 
I  remember  when  I  started  I  thought  the  idea  was 
to  catch  as  many  rascals  as  I  could.  But  I  soon 
learned  that  wasn't  my  job  so  much  as  it  was  to 
keep  them  from  getting  into  my  clutches. 

**Be  on  the  job  to  keep  out  the  bully,  settle  a  point 
on  the  rules,  and  look  over  their  heads  the  rest  of 
the  time.  You'll  save  on  collars  and  handkerchiefs, 
and  the  kids  will  have  all  the  better  time  if  you  don't 
see  so  much." 

We  can  all  take  a  hint  from  the  old  officer.  Many 
a  time  we  see  too  much  where  the  children  are  con- 
cerned. Better  see  only  the  essentials  and  let  the 
rest  slip  by.  And  I  can  think  of  no  better  last 
thought  to  leave  with  you,  dear  trainers  in  home 
and  school  of  America's  men  and  women  of  to-mor- 
row. 


INDEX 


Adenoids,  136,  177. 
Adolescence,  329. 
Allegiance,  divided,  373. 
Allowances,  97,  198,  219. 
Anger,  parental,  96. 
Animals,  38,  110,  112,  120,  289. 
Appreciation,  176. 

Baby,  7. 
Babying,  24. 
''     Bad  language,  269. 
Bad  loser,  225. 
Bashfulness,  232. 
Bears,  seeing,  21. 
Bedroom,  child's,  25. 
Bedtime,  17,  18,  27,  101. 
"Be  Still,"  98. 
Bible,  263. 
Books,  291. 
Borrowing,  220. 
Boys,  adolescence,  329. 

bad  boy,  181. 

bad  loser,  225. 

best  companions,  291. 

"boy  behind  me,"  215. 

boys  and  girls,  62,  331. 

Boy  Scout,  118. 

caddies,  317. 

camping,  353. 

clan  spirit,  313. 

clothes,  295. 

clubs,  287. 

code  of,  296. 

dirty  boy,  299. 


Boys,  dogs,  289. 

earning  money,  310. 

egotism,  304. 

father  and  son,  297. 

keeping  at  home,  285. 

loafing,  333. 

"lump  of  a  boy,"  309. 

outdoors,  283. 

playing  fair,  301. 

praise,  303. 

sharing  family  load,  337. 

study,  305. 

summer  camp,  345,  347. 

troublesome  boy,  315. 
Braggart,  73. 
Breakfast,  137. 
Breaking  things,  76. 
Breathing,  40. 

Caddies,  317. 

Camping  out,  353. 

Camps,  345,  351. 

Candy,  60. 

Canoeing,  357. 

Carriage,  254. 

Character,  197,  200,  217,  227, 

262,  263,  391. 
Cheating,  227. 
Cheerful  word,  66. 
Child  and  his  eounti-y,  409, 427. 
Children's  hour,  90. 
Christmas,  279. 
Circus,  361. 
Clan  spirit,  313. 


431 


432 


INDEX 


Clothes,  295. 
Clubs,  287. 
Clumsiness,  77,  94. 
Collecting,  70. 
Columbus  Day,  409. 
Companions,  291. 
Complaints,  39. 
Conceit,  73. 
Coughing,  78. 
Country,  199,  365. 
Covetousness,  213. 
Creeds,  277. 
Criticism,  72. 
Cruelty,  237. 

Dinner,  ready  for,  31. 
Dirtiness,  5,  299. 
Discipline,  250. 
Dramatics,  123,  359. 
Dreams,  91,  203. 
Dressing,  29. 
Duty,  201,  209. 

Earning  money,  220,  310. 
Eating,  47,  137,  199. 
Education,  see  School. 
Education,  false,  304. 
Egotism,  304. 
Elders,  respect  for,  252. 
Encouragement,  217. 
Entertainment,    64,    122,    124, 

126. 
Errands,  84,  102, 118. 
Excursions,  355. 
Excuses,  215,  223. 
Eyes,  135. 

Family  load,  337. 

Father  and  son,  369,  385,  387, 

389 
Fears,  5,  19,  21,  211,  405. 
Feeding,  15,  33. 


Finding  things,  247. 
Flag  Day,  423. 
Forgetting,  129,  229. 
Fourth  of  July,  413. 
Franklin,  Benjamin,  417. 
Freedom,  50. 
Frightening,  19. 
Fussing  over,  23. 

Gentlemen,  317. 
Getting  up,  27. 
Gifted  child,  171. 
God,  267,  271. 
Good  child,  199. 
Good  sport,  224. 
Gossip,  99. 
Graduation,  193. 
Grandmothers,  403. 
Growing  pains,  339. 
Growth,  room  for,  256. 
Gum,  56. 

Habits,  60,  85, 103,  247. 
Hallowe'en,  126. 
Handkerchiefs,  78. 
Having  everything,  242. 
Health,  197. 
Helping,  13,  118. 
Holidays,  124, 126,  409,  427. 
Home,  happy,  122,  377. 
Home  work,  167,  221. 
Honoring  parents,  265. 
Household  tasks,  104. 
Hurrying  the  child,  74,  137. 

"If,"  223. 

Imagination,  82,  208. 
Initiative,  65. 
Interrupting,  35. 

Jobs,  325. 


INDEX 


433 


Keeping  at  home,  285. 
Keeping  busy,  37. 
Kissing,  88. 

Laughing,  80. 

Lazy  child,  84. 

Lazy  parent,  375. 

Leadership,  203,  205. 

Leaving  alone,  86,  88. 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  419. 

Loafing,  333. 

Loving,  405. 

Lying,  5,  82,  175,  197,  211. 

Mannerisms,  58. 

Manners,   bad,   5,  45,   54,   56, 

62. 
Manners,  table,  15,  33, 137. 
Marks,  68. 
Memorial  Day,  421. 
Memories,  365. 
Messes,  71. 
Money,  60,  198,  219. 
Morals,  261. 
Music,  90, 115, 116, 130. 

Nagging,  33.  ^ 
Neighbors'  children,  120. 
Nervousness,  100. 
Noisy  child,  94. 
Nonsense,  43. 
Nurses,  11. 

Obedience,  191. 
Outdoors,  283. 
Owning  the  child.  321 

Pacifiers,  12. 
Parents,  369,  399. 
Parties,  124,  126. 
Patience,  115. 
Patriotism,  409, 427. 


Persistence,  245. 
Physical  training,  95, 135. 
Playgrounds,  147. 
Playing,  86,  205,  301. 
Playmates,  39,  90. 
Playthings,  106, 108. 
Possessions,  319. 
Praise,  217,  303. 
Prizes,  179. 

Reading,  90. 

Respect  for  child,  252,  265. 
Respect  for  elders,  114,  393. 
Responsibility,  218. 
Rights,  child's,  89. 
Roosevelt,  Theodore,  425. 

Saturday,  104. 
Saving,  219. 
Scaring,  11. 
School,  budget,  153. 

cheap  education,  154. 

equipment  of,  144. 

failure,  177. 

first  day  at,  139. 

gifted  child,  171. 

good  school,  145. 

graduation,  193. 

homework,  167,  221. 

intelligence  quotient,  157. 

lessons,  161. 

manual  training,  163. 

morals,  teaching,  261. 

overcrowded  school,  155. 

playgrounds,  147. 

poor  student,  173. 

practical  education,  162 

private  schools,  151. 

prizes,  179. 

sanitary  condition  of,  144. 

school's  job,  143 

silence  in,  184. 


434 


INDEX 


School,    skimping    the    school, 
185. 

skipping  grades,  165. 

smaller  classes,  183. 

standards  of,  151. 

starting  off  to,  137. 

St.  Valentine's  Day,  124. 

teacher,  141,  169,  187,  189, 
293. 

testing  and  grading,  159. 

three  R's,^166. 

unworthy  school,  149. 

See  also  35,  68,  75,  79,  98, 
100, 130,  141. 
Scolding,  80,  96,  405. 
Seeing  too  much,  431. 
Self-confidence,  72. 
Self-help,  29,  41,  50,  221. 
Servants,  92. 
Showing  off,  62,  401. 
Showing  the  child,  96. 
Sickness,  69,  79. 
Sneezing,  78. 
"Something  to  do,"  37. 
Spoiled  child,  100. 
Stealing,  6. 
Stuhbornness,  235. 
Study,  305. 
Summer,  343,  365. 
Summer  dangers,  357. 


Sunday  school,  273,  275. 
Swearing,  267. 
Swimming,  357. 

Tale  bearing,  243,  293. 
Talent,  child's,  323. 
Talking  to,  381. 
Taunting,  118. 
Teacher,   see   School. 
Thanksgiving,  411. 
Tickling,  9. 
Tonsils,  136,  177. 
Toys,  106,  108. 

Unhappy  child,  64. 
Unknown  Soldier,  427. 
Unselfishness,  239. 
Unusual  child,  307,  311. 

Vacation,  343-365. 
Vacation  schools,  343. 
Vaccination,  135. 

Waking  up,  28. 
Washington,  George,  415. 
Wheeling  baby,  8. 
Work,  325,  335. 

"Yee,"  379, 


(1) 


A     000  123  300     6 


